


Victory is Long

by jane_x80



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), NCIS
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, Don't Ask Don't Tell, Episode: s03e12 Boxed In, Hawaii, Kid Fic, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-10 18:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13507242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_x80/pseuds/jane_x80
Summary: Anthony DiNozzo was twelve when his father forgot him and left him in a hotel in Maui. It turned out to be a blessing, because the boy meets the McGarretts then, and they take him in and make him ohana, family. Not to mention that Steve was the most beautiful boy in the world, and Anthony couldn't believe that the guy would even speak to someone like him.The story begins in Hawaii when both Tony and Steve are twelve, and goes on to explore the episode Boxed In and Tony's thoughts about Ziva's continued presence on the MCRT.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jesco0307](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesco0307/gifts).



> This story is for jesco0307, who has been the beta reader for some of my stories, and who has always been supportive of all my writing. Her birthday was earlier this month, so this story is late, but I'm not sure anyone is surprised anymore that I might be late with a birthday story.
> 
> Thank you, jesco, for your friendship and your support. You've helped me with some of my biggest and most challenging stories, giving me such great and amazing comments, even before you were officially my beta. You are the best! I couldn't ask for more <3
> 
> Also, bear in mind that I did not ask jesco to beta this story so every error is definitely my own! What kind of person would I be to make my beta work for her birthday gift?? :P
> 
> jesco's prompt had a bunch of different things but I tried to include the following:  
> * Tony/Steve McGarrett  
> * Strong/Competent Tony  
> * Gibbs as a brotherly figure and not antagonistic/jealous towards Tony  
> * Boxed In episode tag
> 
> I hope that I covered some of your requests, jesco, and I hope you enjoy this story. Happy belated birthday!!
> 
> The title of the story is taken from the lyrics of [History Will Teach Us Nothing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WNt5iK8EuAU) by Sting.
> 
> The absolutely fabulous artwork was made by my Elton, the amazing [Red_Pink_Dots](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Pink_Dots/pseuds/Red_Pink_Dots)! Thank you for making this! You know I love it! <3 <3
> 
> And finally, this is the 100th work that I am posting! I can't even believe it! :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note - I messed with the Hawaii 5-0 timeline a little. Changes include:  
> * Steve and Tony are the same age (if we go by canon, chronologically, Steve should be a few years younger than Tony)  
> * Doris McGarrett died when Steve was seven or eight, instead of when he was a sophomore in high school
> 
> This section about Tony's childhood was supposed to be a short prologue but it took on a life of its own and grew into 3 chapters, which is why I tagged this a kid fic. Let me know if I've missed any tags.

**Part I: Anthony**

[](https://i.imgur.com/eQnwcSo.png)

Anthony had been happily watching movies, ordering room service and swimming in the ocean, free to do as he liked for several days before there was a stentorian knock on the door of their suite. He opened it, green eyes questioning.

“Can I help you, sir?” he asked politely.

The man who stood there was wearing a uniform and had a name tag with his name and the word ‘Manager’ on it. He stared at the child in shock.

“Yes?” the boy asked, one eyebrow raised.

“We received a call that the occupants of this room, the DiNozzos, checked out three days ago, although we have no record of it,” he finally managed to get the words out. Apparently Anthony had stumped him.

“My father might have forgotten to check out officially. He gets like that sometimes if he’s busy with meetings,” Anthony explained gravely. “Has he come back for me?”

“And you are?”

“Anthony DiNozzo Jr,” Anthony told the man. “His son.”

The man did a double take, taking in the wide green eyes, the too-skinny body. “How old are you? Ten?”

“I’m _twelve_ ,” Anthony said, annoyed. He knew he was small for his age, but he would get his growth spurt one day. He knew it. He stood straighter, trying to appear taller.

“And you’ve been here without supervision for how long?” the man asked.

Anthony pursed his lips as he thought. “I think I last saw Father four, maybe five days ago?” he supplied.

“And you didn’t think to call him?”

“He gets upset if I interrupt him,” Anthony said, eyes big and serious. That was a serious no-no. Interrupting Father would land Anthony in hot water. The kind that involved bruises.

“And your mother?”

“She died.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the man muttered. “And do you not have a nanny or something?”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “I’m _twelve_ ,” he said again, trying to curb his exasperation. “I don’t need a nanny anymore. I don’t see Father for days on end all the time. I can take care of myself.”

The man gave him a sad look. “I suppose you can at that.”

“Is he coming back for me, or am I being sent back?” Anthony asked wearily. He opened the door wider and gestured the manager in, the move far too grown up for such a little boy.

“Well, why don’t you gather your things and come with me. Unfortunately, your father telephoned the police as he thought someone was perpetrating credit card fraud.”

Anthony snorted at that. As if. The only person perpetrating fraud of any sort was his father. He might be twelve, but he wasn’t stupid. His father was so not on the up and up. “So, when do the cops get here?” he sighed.

“Cops are here already, kid,” a voice made Anthony jump.

He turned to see a man in a crumpled suit – department store, his brain supplied – about his father’s age, a badge on his belt. “Hello?” he cocked his head.

“I’m Detective McGarrett,” the man introduced himself and allowed Anthony to inspect his badge.

Anthony offered his hand. “Anthony DiNozzo, Jr,” he supplied as they shook. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

“DiNozzo?” McGarrett did a double take and looked at his notebook.

“He claims to be Mr DiNozzo’s son,” the hotel manager chimed in.

Anthony made a face and shrugged.

“Your… uh… father reported credit card fraud and we thought we’d catch the criminals dumb enough to still stick around the hotel room for three days.”

Anthony couldn’t help but laugh at that, a short, bitter laugh. “Sorry. No dumb criminals. Just me, stuck here.”

“When’s your flight home, kid?”

“In two weeks.”

“Nice vacation.”

Anthony shrugged. “Can’t complain. The beach is nice. Room service is nice.”

“Where’s your mother?”

“Dead.”

“Sorry, kid.”

The child shrugged again.

“So I think we have a bit of a problem now,” the manager interrupted. “As Mr DiNozzo has reported these charges for room service as fraudulent and his credit card has been canceled.”

McGarrett watched as the boy sighed. “I’d better see if the airlines will change my ticket home,” the boy was matter of fact and practical.

“How old are you again?” McGarrett asked. “Ten?”

“ _Twelve_ , sir,” Anthony rolled his eyes and shook his head. Jeez, Lewis, did he have to say it a million times?

“Is his father on the mainland already?” the manager asked.

McGarrett nodded. “Tony, can you go with Mr Watanabe and wait in his office after you’ve packed and I’ll call your dad to see when he can come to pick you up?”

“It’s Anthony, sir,” the child corrected him before he sighed again. As if Father would come back for him. But he nodded and obediently packed all his things, looking around the room carefully, including looking longingly out the window onto the surf, before he went with the manager.

He was sitting quietly in the office, reading one of the books he’d brought with him, when he heard yelling outside Mr Watanabe’s office.

“What do you mean you’re not coming to pick him up? This is your _son_ we’re talking about! He’s not luggage that you forgot and the hotel can just ship that to you overnight delivery! You forgot your son here for three goddamn days! You even thought that him ordering room service – to feed himself since you’re obviously incapable of caring for your own child – was credit card fraud! You forgot your twelve year old kid! In a fucking hotel in Maui! And you’re back in New York? It didn’t occur to you that you were missing something? Something important? Like your fucking _kid?_ ” It was Detective McGarrett’s voice. Anthony scrubbed his face. At the rate this was going, by the time he did get home to Father, he was going to be so angry Anthony wouldn’t be able to sit down for the rest of the summer.

“Like hell I’m going to just fucking put him on a plane by himself!” McGarrett yelled. “He’s too young to be going from fucking Hawaii all the way to New York City unaccompanied! He’s a child! He’s a fucking _minor!_ ”

“ _He can take care of himself?_ ” McGarrett sounded livid. “I’ll have you know that I have called Child Protective Services on you. Because you abandoned your kid in a hotel room for three days! Somebody should be looking at your fitness as a parent.”

Anthony couldn’t make out some of the snarled threats and the voices died down. But a couple of minutes later, Detective McGarrett burst into the office. His expression immediately gentled. “Son, I’m afraid I have bad news. Your dad can’t come and pick you up right away.”

Anthony nodded solemnly.

“And because of what he did, some nice people from Child Protective Services are going to take care of you until he can prove that he’s able to care for you.”

Anthony’s face fell. He nodded, eyes down. McGarrett sat on the couch and waited with him until the CPS agent arrived. The woman took a look at the boy and sighed.

“We don’t really have a lot of foster homes set up on Maui,” she told them both. “I’m going to have to send you to a group home in Honolulu.”

Anthony nodded silently.

“Group home?” McGarrett raised his eyebrows.

“It’s the only place we have room,” the woman said, her tone regretful.

“If he has to go back to Oahu anyway, maybe he can come stay with me while you work with your counterparts on the mainland to figure this out?” McGarrett found himself saying when he saw the bitten lips and chewed up fingernails on the boy. “I have a son his age, and my daughter’s a few years younger. On their summer break. They can hang out.”

The woman brightened up. “You don’t mind, Detective?”

“Eh. It’ll be good for Steve to have to care about something other than catching his next perfect wave,” McGarrett shrugged. “If it’s OK with this young man? Is it OK? Would you mind staying with me and my kids while they straighten everything out?”

Anthony’s eyes grew wide with hope although he shrugged, trying to pass it off as a casual acceptance. “Whatever,” he tried to emulate James Dean, with an uncaring attitude.

“Is that a yes or a no, son?” McGarrett asked again.

“Yes! Yes, sir!” Anthony finally smiled. He wanted to ask about Detective McGarrett’s wife, since he was still wearing a wedding ring, but he chose to wait and see. He didn’t want to bring up a difficult topic if the Detective’s wife had left him, or something.

“Good. Grab your stuff. You can have the guest room, or maybe my son will share if you get scared about being alone in a strange place.”

Anthony shrugged. He’d been alone his whole life. Where he was didn’t really matter. But he kept all that to himself. He was used to keeping everything to himself. He went with the nice Detective on the short plane ride to Honolulu and they drove up to a big wooden house on the beach.

“You live on the _beach_ , Detective?” Anthony’s mouth fell open, his eyes wide with glee.

“It’s Hawaii, kid,” McGarrett said, grinning. “There are beaches everywhere. And you should call me John.”

Anthony gave him a doubtful glance.

“Do you know how to swim?” the man asked him, eyes serious. “Because if you don’t I don’t want you anywhere near that water. That’s open ocean, son. You don’t ever underestimate the power of the ocean.”

“I can swim,” Anthony assured him. “Father wouldn’t let me take surfing lessons though.”

“Maybe Stevie can teach you,” McGarrett smiled and ruffled his hair, and Anthony stared at him for a moment before he nodded. “C’mon in, I’ll introduce you to the kids.”

McGarrett carried Anthony’s suitcase into the house, the boy trailing after him, eyes still on the ocean behind the house. He swung the door open, and yelled “I’m home! Stevie! Mary! C’mere a sec!”

A tow headed little girl popped up from the couch. “Daddy!” she squealed and went to hug him.

“Sweetheart, we’re going to have a visitor stay with us for a bit. This is To…”

Anthony cleared his throat pointedly.

“Sorry, excuse me,” McGarrett looked like he was trying to hide a grin. “This is Anthony. He’s staying with us until he can go home.”

“Hi Tony!” Mary gave him a gap toothed smile. “I’m Mary.”

“Where’s your brother?”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Like you even have to ask, Daddy,” she shook her head.

“Yeah,” McGarrett smiled at her. “C’mon, kid. Let me show you to your room and then we can go watch Stevie surf. That ham always loves an audience.”

Anthony followed McGarrett up the stairs and he opened a door and looked in and sighed. The guest room was a mess – Mary and Steve used it as a playroom and had left their toys strewn everywhere. McGarrett gave Anthony an apologetic look. “Sorry, kid. I’ll get the room cleaned before we get you settled in. OK? Just dump your stuff in Stevie’s room for now.” He led the boy to another room, the door wide open revealing another messy room with more toys and books and clothes thrown on the floor. He put Anthony’s suitcase there by the door and beckoned.

“C’mon. Stevie’s out there catching as many waves as he can before school starts up. You want to go watch?”

Anthony nodded, eyes big and solemn. McGarrett held out his hand and the boy stared up at him in surprise. The man wiggled his fingers, and Anthony finally understood that it was a prompt for him to take the man’s hand. He gave the man a puzzled glance and hesitantly put his hand into McGarrett’s large one, and allowed himself to be led back downstairs.

“Sweetie pie, we’re going to go introduce Anthony here to Stevie. You want to come with?” McGarrett called to his daughter who had resumed her position in front of the television.

“Yeah!” she shrieked, throwing herself into McGarrett’s arms.

Anthony watched in amazement as the big, macho cop swept his daughter up with one arm and kissed her cheek, settling her on his hip before he took Anthony’s hand again and they walked outside. Mary seemed to be around seven or eight, surely old enough to walk by herself and McGarrett was a man who carried a gun. Father said real men didn’t carry around children who could walk. Father said that real men definitely never held their son’s hand unless they were toddlers and needed help walking still. But this man, who was a police detective, which was even more exciting than anything Father could even pretend to be, seemed to have no problems holding Anthony’s hand and carrying his daughter even though neither of them were infants. Detective McGarrett seemed like a real man to Anthony, even though he was carrying around his not so little daughter on his hip.

Anthony couldn’t remember the last time anyone had picked him up – maybe it was after the time that Father had grabbed his arm and twisted it so hard that he’d needed to go to the hospital to get x-rays and a cast? The x-ray technician had lifted him from the wheelchair onto the examination table. And Father didn’t even bother to take him to the hospital. It had been the housekeeper who had thought that he needed a doctor. He couldn’t help but envy Mary, so secure in her father’s arms, not doubting his love for her, not even for a second. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. And now the man held his hand, as if even Anthony mattered to him. And Anthony definitely couldn’t understand that. He tried not to let Father’s words enter his mind, the ones that made him want to wonder if this policeman had ulterior motives, or if he was secretly being held for ransom or something. Although he knew that if he was, Father wouldn’t pay one red cent to get him back.

“You know my father won’t pay you to get me back, right?” he found himself saying to the detective.

“What’s that, Anthony?” McGarrett looked at him, blue eyes looking sincerely confused.

Anthony shook his head, blushing profusely. He should keep his doubts to himself. Father always said that he was too loud, and too talkative. He needed to curb his tongue. That was what Father always said. Especially when he was called to the carpet and required to pour Father his scotch.

“Are you all right?” McGarrett asked, concern coloring his tone now.

Anthony didn’t know what else to do. He nodded dumbly. McGarrett let go of his hand and pulled him into his side in a short but tight hug, releasing him quickly and ruffling his hair again.

“Hang in there, kid. We’ll figure things out for you. Look, there’s Stevie in the water.”

Anthony looked and in the distance he saw a figure gracefully balancing on a surfboard, expertly riding the waves. He seemed to dance among the waves, his movements fluid and graceful, responding to the ocean as if they were communicating with each other. He dove off the board into the water when the wave died out.

“Stevie!” McGarrett was yelling and waving.

“Stevie!” Mary yelled with him.

The figure rubbed water out of his face after he surfaced, found his board and swam back to shore, towing it, his strokes strong and sure. Anthony stared, wide eyed and thunderstruck, as the boy stood up in the water, pushing his hair out of his face, water streaming down his body. He was the most beautiful person Anthony had ever seen. And the water droplets streaming down the tanned skin just emphasized the boy’s beauty.

“Dad,” the boy waved back, slipping his board under his arm and walking up the beach to where John, Mary and Anthony stood. “You’re home early?” he looked at the complicated looking watch on his hand.

“Yeah. The case on Maui ended early. And we have a guest for a little while. This is Anthony. Anthony, my son, Stevie.”

“Steve,” the boy rolled his eyes and held out a wet hand to Anthony, who stared at him, frozen in his tracks for some reason. The most beautiful boy in the world had huge hazel eyes and one day, one day Anthony knew that he would be so beautiful that he would stop traffic. Anthony had started noticing beautiful boys as well as beautiful girls even though he knew he wasn’t supposed to look at boys that way. He knew nobody would ever look at him the way he was looking at Steve. He knew that he was nothing much to look at, not to mention everyone at his school remembered him wearing his sailor suits to school when he was much too old to be doing such things, and they thought he was a mama’s boy, even after his mother died. They all looked at him with such disdain that Anthony almost never spoke to anyone when he was in school. But he knew that one day he would achieve a growth spurt and stop looking like a frickin’ eight year old and then he would show them. But for now, he knew that nobody ever noticed him. And that was fine. But this beautiful boy holding out his hand to shake his, as if he could even be allowed to exist on the same plane of existence as this boy, this was short circuiting his brain.

“You’re kind of shy, huh?” the gentle tone and the smile that appeared made Anthony’s heart beat almost right out of his chest. The beautiful boy stuck his surfboard upright in the sand, grabbed Anthony’s hand and pumped it. “I’m Steve. Anthony – do you mind if I call you Tony?”

Anthony shook his head dumbly. Of course he wouldn’t mind it. This beautiful boy could call him anything he wanted and Anthony would answer, even if it was ‘Tony’. Anthony hated that because his father went by that, and Anthony did not want to ever be mistaken for his father. But Steve could call him that. Sure. No problem.

“Good. I’m going to be in seventh grade in September. What about you? Fourth grade like Mary? Or Fifth?”

“ _Seventh_ ,” Anthony bristled. “I’m _twelve_.” Jeepers, how many times did he have to tell people his age anyway?

“Of course you are,” Steve grinned at him.

“Anthony is from the mainland,” John told them.

“Are you? Do you surf?” Steve sniffed and scrubbed his face, water still dripping down his face and his body. Anthony tried not to imagine himself as a water droplet, sliding down that flesh, so he could be touching Steve. “Tony?”

Anthony shook his head again.

“No problem, brah,” Steve grinned at him. “I can teach you. I’ll make a surfer out you yet, little _haole_. Come on. Let’s go find you one of my old wetsuits. We can start right away.” And then the boy grabbed his wrist and dragged him back up to the house.

Anthony turned to look back at Detective McGarrett who shook his head at his son’s enthusiasm.

Anthony ended up staying with the McGarretts for over three weeks. Steve taught him to surf which to Steve’s delight he took to like a fish, and he happily played Barbies, hula danced, did origami, and had tea parties with Mary when she asked him to. He even let her paint his nails and solemnly discussed what nail polishes worked best for Mary, even though Steve called him a dork for doing it afterwards. Anthony had never had a sister before, and Mary was adorable. Steve was entirely too hard on her, but Anthony could not resist her baby blues and was roped into many of her games. But the rest of the time, Anthony was Steve’s. They played together, surfed together, and Anthony ended up sleeping on a mattress on Steve’s floor instead of in the guest room. He even got used to answering to ‘Tony’ without flinching, because when Steve, Mary and John said it, it didn’t sound like the name that an asshole would answer to. The name that Father’s so-called friends called him and they all called Anthony what Father called him – ‘Junior’. When Steve, Mary and John called him Tony, it sounded like an endearment.

Anthony had been infatuated with Steve the moment he laid eyes on him, the most beautiful boy in the world, and in getting to know him and his family, and when he was taken under Steve’s wing, his feelings deepened. He knew that he would be Steve’s forever, even if the other boy would never know it. Steve taught him to play basketball, and introduced him to his friends and they all surfed together or played football and basketball. Anthony found that even though he was on the scrawny side, he had a knack for playing both sports and for the first time in his life, he was picked first. But he had a feeling that even if he’d sucked, Steve would still have picked him first for his team, because Steve was sweet and protective, and would never hurt his feelings.

The food in Hawaii agreed with Anthony as well. He loved the variety of tropical fresh fruits that were available and fell upon malasadas – the Hawaiian version of donuts – with a kind of ferocity that John McGarrett had to stare at him in awe, seeing such a tiny little boy demolish so many donuts in one sitting. Anthony even learned to appreciate sushi, even though he had at first looked at it askance, but Mary and Steve seemed to love it so he gave it a shot, too.

The first time Anthony asked John if he could make dinner for the family, about a week into his stay there, John had told him to knock himself out. John was then sent to the grocery store with a list that contained more fresh ingredients than they generally ate and then he watched with a dazed expression as Anthony assigned tasks for both Mary and Steve to help him make the food. They had ended up with what was a simple meal of pasta with a meat sauce. The difference was that Anthony had somehow made his pasta from scratch – a rustic wide cut pasta, and the marinara had been made from actual tomatoes instead of poured out of a jar. John watched as Anthony chopped herbs with a knife, slowly and carefully, but he was no stranger to a knife.

“Where’d you learn how to cook, Tony?” Mary asked as she tore romaine lettuce with her fingers and threw the pieces haphazardly into the salad bowl.

“We have a really nice cook and she lets me help her in the kitchen,” Anthony replied, frowning as he focused on rolling out the dough – with a rolling pin since the McGarretts didn’t have a pasta roller. “She’s from Italy and she thinks children should always help with making meals.”

Anthony blushed crimson when they all complimented him after the first bite of the food. And after the meal, John marshalled the McGarrett children into helping him with clean up and Anthony wasn’t allowed to help, since he had made the dinner, but he sat at the counter and giggled and laughed with everyone, feeling at home with this family. Feeling like maybe, he might even belong, just a little bit. He cooked a few more times during the rest of his stay, always impressing the McGarretts with his food.

But his favorite part of his stay, by far, were the nights in the bedroom when he and Steve were alone. They would talk about anything and everything, and for the first time in his life, Anthony felt that someone understood him. Mrs McGarrett had died in a car accident several years ago, so Steve understood the pain of losing a mother, as they were both motherless children. And somehow, Anthony felt that even if Steve had seen him in his sailor suit, or seen him crying at recess after his mother died, that Steve wouldn’t have been one of the boys who called him names and pushed him into things, and made his life miserable.

Anthony didn’t cry when he said goodbye to the McGarretts. Mary was wailing and holding on to him, and Steve looked stoic. John hugged him tightly before he was given over into the care of the woman Father had sent to accompany him on his long flight home. Anthony looked back, eyes huge in his face, and when tears finally filled his eyes, Steve broke away from his father and ran to him, hugging him hard and kissing his cheek, putting a crumpled piece of paper in his hands before he ran back to John.

When Anthony was sitting in his seat on the airplane, he finally straightened out the wrinkled paper and saw a hastily scribbled ‘Write to me. I’ll miss you’ and their address on the back. He smiled and put his fingers on his cheek, feeling Steve’s lips on him still.

And when Anthony was returned to his father, he was publicly greeted with an awkward pat on the head, and privately with a backhanded slap. He was told that he was being cut off and disowned for putting his father through the hassle of working to get him back from Child Protective Services. And Father told him that he was lucky that Father even brought him back at all and didn’t just leave him in whatever hellhole he’d been stuck in for the past few weeks. But Father was done with him now, done with having him in his house and in his presence, and then he was immediately shipped off to boarding school. But it wasn’t so bad because he and Steve wrote to each other constantly. And he was finally out of Father’s clutches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the Urban Dictionary:  
> Haole - A word used mainly in Hawaii to describe a white person. Depending on how you say it, the word can mean either an insult or just a fact. ... white people who are usually born and raised on the mainland; a word used by people in Hawaii to describe a white person.
> 
> Hope you all liked this! More tomorrow!


	2. Chapter 2

Boarding school turned out to be no better than his regular school. He continued to be bullied at boarding school, even though no one there had witnessed his shame in wearing his mother’s favorite sailor suits to school. But he was short and scrawny and shy, and in an all-boys school, he stood out – a quiet, musical, sensitive child. Those had been the words his mother had used to describe him. He tried to stay out of everyone’s way and focus on school, trying to get good grades, in case Father ever checked up on him and had some kind of conditions he had to fulfill in order to bring him home. But Father never allowed him to come home. In fact, he rarely saw Father at all, only at mandatory parent teacher events that even Father couldn’t escape from, and he made no friends at school. Even the other loser kids didn’t want to sit with him because he seemed to attract all the bullies and they didn’t want to be collateral damage just by associating with him.

He minimized his misery in his letters to Steve, describing his schedule and his classes, discussing his favorite subjects in school and his favorite teachers but not including any information about friends because he had none, and certainly not telling Steve about the fact that he was locked into his locker at least three times a week, or the time he was strung up the flag pole in his underwear, and other incidents that didn’t need to be recounted or even remembered. He tried his best to put all of the unpleasantness out of his mind as completely as he could. But Steve always seemed to know when he needed the most support because every so often, when he felt he had had enough and was ready to run away from school, he would receive care packages from the McGarretts, containing letters from everyone, and pictures, chocolates and macadamia nuts, macadamia nuts covered in chocolates, and his favorite cookies from Big Island Candies. Once there was a lei made of dried flowers and lopsided origami cranes that Mary had made for him. Another time, there was a small jar of sand from the beach in front of the McGarrett house. There were seashells and sand dollars that both Mary and Steve collected for him. Anthony learned early on to hide his treasures, making a false bottom in his drawer in the middle of the night. What? He watched TV. He knew what James Bond would have done to hide anything that might incriminate him. He didn’t want his most precious belongings to fall into the hands of his bullies. So he hid them the best way he knew how.

So Anthony suffered through his first year of boarding school. The holidays were especially difficult for him. Father never sent anyone to pick him up, not for Thanksgiving or Christmas, not that he was surprised at that given that Father had disowned him. So he always ended up being with the few boys whose parents were away in Europe or Asia on some dangerous or exotic job, or they might have had a sick parent, which Anthony was more than familiar with given his own mother’s illness prior to her death. But all of the boys who had to stay for all the holidays treated him the same way everyone else did – they shunned him. So Anthony was always alone and always lonely. Steve continued to urge him to visit them but it was a truly long way away, and Anthony was still only twelve. It wasn’t like he could buy himself a plane ticket to Hawaii for Thanksgiving or Christmas. And he spent the summer he turned thirteen at a truly awful summer camp meant to toughen him up, and then was shipped to a different boarding school for the next school year.

The summer he turned fourteen, he learned that being the last person in his class to reach puberty became an advantage as he managed to call the summer camp he had been registered to attend, and with his still-high voice, he impersonated his father’s secretary and canceled his stay, receiving a full refund, claiming that poor Anthony’s mother was dying of cancer and Anthony should remain with her to be with her for what little time she had left. It was a call that would have been true six years ago, so Anthony thought it was all right to use that excuse, and that his mother would have understood. This year’s summer camp was even worse than last year’s and Anthony would die before he went there. So he lied and got himself unregistered from the camp. Then he funneled the refund into his own bank account – sometimes being a ‘Junior’ had its benefits as sometimes people missed that part in the name on his account – and he bought himself a round trip ticket to Honolulu after he called John and asked if he could come and stay for the summer. Anthony claimed that he had Father’s permission, and if John doubted it, he kept silent and invited the boy to come and stay for the summer.

Anthony spent a wonderful summer being ‘Tony’ again, surfing daily with Steve and he was endlessly patient with Mary, playing all the games that she wanted, debating the merits of My Little Pony versus Barbies, and again allowing her to paint his fingernails and even his toenails, unselfconsciously going out to surf and play ball with Steve and his friends without removing the nail polish. He knew that Steve’s friends thought he was a freak anyway, and since Steve didn’t care and treated him the same way whether his nails were painted or not, Anthony didn’t care either. This summer girls began hanging around with them, most of them obviously crushing on Steve or one of his friends. Anthony didn’t mind being ignored as long as Steve didn’t ignore him, which he didn’t. So Anthony discounted the girls’ presence completely and enjoyed the company of Steve and Mary, just like he had the time he’d stayed with them before.

John was busy at work but he trusted Steve to watch Mary, and Anthony was one of the most trustworthy children that he’d ever met. He never broke any of John’s rules, cleaned up after himself and Mary and Steve, and took over the cooking duties of the house. Anthony made sure that he gave John no reason to worry. He knew that John had absolutely no reason to have allowed him to come and stay, and he did his best to help out and do whatever he could to thank John for his kindness and to never cause trouble or give John any reason to consider sending him away before the summer was over.

At the end of the summer, on the night before Anthony was scheduled to fly back to New York, John sat him down and asked him if he truly did have his father’s permission to be there. Anthony kept his eyes down and shook his head. John asked him how he’d managed to arrange the stay, and Anthony told him the truth, of his lies and omissions and funneling of Father’s summer camp money into airfare to Hawaii. He knew that he was pale and shaking with fear, and he couldn’t help but flinch and cringe when John stood up, unconsciously readying himself for the blows, even though in his brain he knew that John would never ever hit him. It was instinctual at this point in time.

“Tony?” John’s voice was gentle.

Anthony chanced looking up at the man.

“Tony, does your father know where you are? Have you told him where you are?”

Anthony shook his head.

“What if he’s called the police and reported that you were missing?”

“He doesn’t know or care what happens to me,” Anthony objected. “He wouldn’t even know where I was to begin with. Last year his assistant sent me to summer camp and it was a really awful one! Father didn’t even write to me, never mind come to visit! You know what kind of summer camp it was? It was a survivalist camp. I had to hunt squirrels and learn how to cook and eat them! Although I did learn how to throw knives and that was pretty cool. I didn’t like learning about guns but they made us strip and clean and load them, and timed us. But you know what, it wasn’t my favorite thing to do but that’s fine. What’s not fine? They only let us shower once a week. Outside. Like we’re animals. Once a _week_ , John! I draw the line at eating squirrels that I have to hunt myself, and showering once a week! I’m not going back to camp again! Ever!”

John sighed, and then he moved very slowly towards the boy. Anthony flinched again when he put a hand on his shoulder.

“How do you know your dad hasn’t been looking for you?”

“Father’s never remembered me once I’m out of his sight before,” Anthony said mutinously. “Why would he start now?”

John sighed.

“Besides, you’re a cop. You can see if anyone’s filed a missing persons report on me. Have you looked?” Anthony looked at John, his eyes narrowed shrewdly. John looked at him, guilt in his eyes. “See? He hasn’t even noticed I’m not at camp. It’s been a whole summer. As long as I’m not bothering him he doesn’t give a shit about me.”

“Language, Tony.”

Anthony raised his chin stubbornly, but he flinched again when John patted his shoulder.

John sighed and stared at the boy for a long moment. “Tony, does your father hit you?” he asked softly.

Anthony shook his head vehemently. “ _No_ , sir. Of course not! He wouldn’t do anything like that! Besides, I haven’t even seen him in over a year.” Anthony automatically lied, because what good had it ever done for him to tell anyone the truth about Father. It always backfired on him. _Always_.

John sighed and nodded, his eyes sad. “Sure, son. But you’ve got to be careful how you managed to do this. You’re a good kid. Don’t turn into a conman. OK?”

Anthony nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when he realized that John wasn’t going to punish him.

The next year, at the end of the school year, Anthony received a round trip ticket in the mail from the McGarretts and even though he did finagle a refund from the next awful summer camp – what self-respecting fifteen year old still got sent to camp, anyway? – he spent a lot of that money on gifts for Steve, Mary and John. And when he got off the plane in Honolulu, he was surprised to see that he was somehow as tall as Steve was now, gangly instead of scrawny, and he no longer had to insist that he wasn’t younger than he looked. Somehow, in the past miserable year, he’d had that growth spurt that he’d been praying for for years. Mary followed him around like a puppy that summer, and even though Anthony was fifteen he still played Barbies and had tea parties with her, still had solemn discussions about the season’s newest line of nail polish, and Mary worshipped him.

Anthony surfed and played basketball and football with Steve and his friends, and he paid close attention to John McGarrett talking about work at dinner, asking pertinent questions. It surprised Anthony when not only Mary started following him around, but some of the neighborhood girls did as well. At first he thought they were following Steve, and he was used to that, he was usually invisible to them, but then he realized that they weren’t just humoring him but were actually speaking to him as if they wanted to.

On the mattress in Steve’s bedroom one night, as he had done so many times before, he asked Steve questions because he didn’t understand it.

“I don’t understand why they’re talking to me now,” Anthony mumbled. “Last year they only had eyes for you. They didn’t even _see_ me walking with you.”

Steve laughed. “It’s cause you got all hot and stuff, you dork.”

“I’m still the same person I was last year, and I’m not hot,” Anthony said, feeling uncomfortable about the subject. “I’m still that stupid kid that no one wants and has no place to go in the summers.”

“Of _course_ you have a place to go in the summer. You have us,” Steve said fiercely. “ _We_ want you with us, Tony. And besides, you’ve always been hot. I always knew that. It’s only now that the world is catching up with me.”

Anthony stared up at Steve, soft moonlight drifting in through the open windows. “What’s that even mean?” he snorted. “As if. I looked like I was eight or nine when I was twelve, Steve. I can admit it.”

“You’ve always been beautiful, inside and out, Anthony,” Steve told him, for the first time calling him by the name that he called himself and shit, did that make him get a boner. Thank god he was under a blanket and in the dark and there was no way Steve could see it. “Happily for you, now, shallow teenaged girls can see it, too. Even though you have at least three different nail polish colors painted on your nails at any one time.”

Anthony blushed. “Oh,” he bit his lips. “What do I do?”

“Mary’s got nail polish remover too, you know.”

“Not about the nail polish, asshole.”

“About the girls?”

Anthony nodded.

“You like any of them?”

He shrugged. “Why?”

“You could ask them out or something.”

“Have you done that?”

Steve shrugged. “Once or twice.”

“How was that? They’ve always looked at you like you’re steak.”

Steve sighed. “We’re not talking about me, now. We’re talking about you. You interested in any of them?”

Anthony shrugged. “Dunno. Never really thought about them.”

Steve laughed at that. “Shit, Tony. You’re _fifteen!_ Surely you’ve had some fantasies along the way.”

Anthony blushed and was glad that it was dark because sure, he’s had some fantasies but they weren’t about the girls in his real life because there weren’t any. And besides his fantasies weren’t about girls. Well, maybe not all about girls because you know, Raquel Welch in that fur bikini – super hot. Audrey Hepburn, oh yeah. But he’d always been partial to a young Marlon Brando with his sexy lips, and who could resist Cary Grant? And Thomas Magnum, with the car and the moustache. Shit. He was a normal teenaged boy. Of course he had fantasies. But what he didn’t want Steve to know was that not only were there men as well as women in them, but that Steve had featured prominently in most of his fantasies ever since they’d met.

“I go to an all-boys boarding school, Steve,” Anthony’s voice cracked and he hated it, and it made him blush even more. “I don’t see a lot of real girls, OK?”

Anthony could practically hear Steve rolling his eyes. “Fine. I’ll give you that. But you’re here now and there are girls here. Do you like any of the girls hanging around us?” Steve asked.

Anthony made a face, knowing Steve couldn’t see him in the dark. “I don’t know…”

“Kaia seems to hang on your every word.”

“Last year Kaia thought I was a retard. I’m pretty sure she called me that when she thought I couldn’t hear her,” Anthony mumbled. “It’s the kind of about face I’m sure I could do without.”

“Last year you were a foot shorter and your dimples made you look like you were a baby. This year all they can see are your pretty green eyes, your hair turning all _haole_ blond in the sun and your goddamned dimples make them sigh and swoon now.”

“Shut up!” Anthony threw a flip flop at Steve, face burning with embarrassment. Before he realized what Steve said. “Do you think I have pretty eyes?”

Steve laughed. “ _That’s_ what you got out of that?” And he laughed some more when the other flip flop ended up on his bed by his face. “So, no on Kaia then?”

“No. No. No girls,” Anthony said tightly. “I just want to hang out with you. And Mary. And John.”

Steve sat up. “Sure? I mean, you did say that you go to an all-boys boarding school. Now’s your chance to get some exposure to girls.”

“Not interested, especially not when last year they thought I was a retard,” Anthony said firmly. “Why? Do you like any of them? Like Kaia?”

“Kaia thought you were a retard until you turned up all ugly duckling turned into a swan this year,” Steve sniffed. “She never saw what a sweet guy you were all along. All she sees is how you look now. Why would I be interested in that?”

“When you put it like that…”

“I do. Besides I only get to see you in the summers. These girls will be here after you leave. So I’d rather spend the summer with you.”

“Why, that is a very mature attitude, Steven McGarrett,” Anthony told him, trying to stop his heart from soaring at the words. “Well done on impulse control and denial of gratification.”

“Besides, they’ll be all sad and depressed when you take your pretty eyes and your pouty lips and leave to go back to school. Easy pickins’,” Steve finished smugly.

This time Anthony grabbed a book and lobbed that at Steve, making him laugh some more.

“Wait, I have pouty lips?” Anthony asked after a moment.

All Steve did was laugh and laugh.

They dropped the subject and Anthony pretended to misunderstand Kaia every time she tried to engage him in conversation and drop hints about going off by themselves. But one afternoon, Anthony and Mary were snuggled on the couch watching a recording of Magnum PI on the McGarrett’s VCR when Mary sighed.

“Magnum is dreamy,” she pretended to swoon.

Steve was slouched in the armchair, sipping a glass of water. “Shut up, Mary,” he snorted.

And at the same time, Anthony sighed, “He sure is.”

Steve sat up and stared at Anthony, eyes wide with shock. “ _What_ did you say? You think Magnum is… _dreamy?_ ”

“Are you _deaf_ , Stevie?” Mary snarled. “Tony agrees that Magnum is dreamy. Now shut up so we can watch the show.”

Anthony’s heart was beating wildly in his chest. He knew it was wrong, bad, wrong, bad. He knew he wasn’t supposed to let anyone know that he thought Thomas Magnum was hot. Or any other guy for that matter. Because that wasn’t allowed. That was wrong and bad. Father said so. Father used nasty words for men who liked other men. So did the boys at his school. So did the teachers. He knew he was blushing but he couldn’t stop himself, seeing Steve’s face so shocked at his admission.

“Be right back,” he mumbled to Mary, shooting to his feet, dislodging her from where she was comfortably snuggled into his body, and he ran upstairs. Before he slammed the door to the bathroom, he heard Mary yell at Steve that he’d upset Tony with his rudeness.

He found himself on his knees in front of the toilet, wondering if he was going to throw up or pass out, his heart was beating so hard it was about to explode right out of his body. And he couldn’t catch his breath. He struggled to inhale, wheezing and panting, his eyes tearing up with his every effort. He remembered being this way once before, when he’d been told about the death of his mother. When he understood that he’d lost the only person in the family who had any love for him. When he realized that he would have no real family left now that his mother had died. Shit. He was going to lose everything again. He was going to be alone in the world again. Because he was a goddamned freak of nature that nobody could ever love. He could barely hear the knocking on the door, there was a ringing in his ears. And he just couldn’t breathe anymore. Sucking in his next breath seemed like the most difficult task to accomplish.

He vaguely registered a loud crash and then strong arms around him, Steve’s voice urging him to breathe. To keep breathing. It was like a dream. The cries of “Call Dad, Mary!” And throughout it all, Steve’s arms around him, holding him, and Steve’s voice telling him to breathe. When darkness beckoned, Anthony gave in to it.

When he opened his eyes, he realized that he was in Steve’s bed. He tried to move, but groaned, his head pounding.

“Shhh,” John McGarrett held his hand and Anthony felt strong fingers go through his hair. “You’re OK, Tony. You’re OK. I’ve got you.”

Anthony mumbled something. He was trying to ask John not to send him away because he was defective. He could hide it all away. No one needed to know anything. No one needed to know anything at all.

“No, no. You’re staying right here, OK, Tony? Sleep now, and rest. We’ll talk when you’re better.”

“Don’t send me away,” Anthony managed to say.

“Why would we want to send you away, son? You’re _ohana_. Go back to sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up, all rested. OK?” John’s voice was soothing, and his fingers in Anthony’s hair made him sigh and relax. “That’s a good boy. Go on back to sleep.”

So Anthony did.

When he next opened his eyes, sunlight was streaming into the room and Steve was on the bed, curled up around him, and Mary was snuggled into his other side. John McGarrett was asleep in a chair by the bed. For a moment he thought about getting out of the bed and packing his things and running to the airport, but he realized that Mary had tear tracks on her face, and Steve looked upset, even though he was asleep, and John looked tired and concerned. Anthony laid there, still as a mouse, as the sky lightened. He didn’t know what to think. John had called him _ohana_ , family. And he knew John. Knew the McGarretts. Family was no small thing. Could they overlook his defects? Could they continue to like him even though he wasn’t right? He didn’t know. And he didn’t know what happened to him the previous day.

Anthony laid there and wondered what the hell he was supposed to do now. When John inevitably sent him away, he would have no place to go. He did have some money left over from the summer camp refund so he could probably hole up somewhere until it was time to go back to school, but it would be rough. He was so deep in thought he didn’t even realize Steve had woken up until gentle fingers touched his face. He gasped and startled.

“It’s just me,” Steve whispered. “Shhh.”

“What happened?”

“The doctor said it sounded like you had a panic attack.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry I freaked you out, Anthony,” Steve’s fingers were warm on Anthony’s face, and he blushed, liking the sound of his name on Steve’s tongue. Steve usually called him Tony, but the few times that he called him Anthony, it made him blush and made him hard.

God. He was so getting kicked out of this family, he thought. First the wrongness, now the unwanted affection towards Steve. He would be lucky if all John did was kick him out. Father would have him black and blue, maybe even break a few bones for this. He felt himself start to panic again, and he started breathing hard and his heart began pounding in his chest and his vision greying again.

“Hey, hey, hey, shhhh, come on. Come on. Breathe with me, Anthony,” Steve began breathing in his face, forcing him to take slow deep breaths. Counting them with him.

Anthony’s heart rate slowed down, as did his breathing.

“Good, that’s good. You keep breathing with me, Anthony. You hear me?” Steve murmured as he kept breathing in Anthony’s face.

Anthony nodded.

“That’s good. You’re doing great,” Steve spoke gently. “You’re OK. You’re OK. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Anthony blew out a long breath and nodded again.

“Good. Now, do you think you’re up to go catch some waves? ‘Cause it’s a beautiful day out and the ocean, it calls to me!”

“Steven!” John’s voice made both boys jump. “Tony needs to rest today. No excitement. OK, son?” John’s hand ruffled Anthony’s hair, and the boy obediently nodded. “Good. I’m going to make coffee.”

“I can make breakfast,” Anthony offered.

“Didn’t I say you should be resting?” John smiled at him. “Glad you’re OK, son. Steve and Mary were really worried about you.”

“You were worried, too, Dad,” Steve interjected.

Anthony gave John a scared look.

“Don’t worry, son. We’ll talk later. After breakfast, OK?”

Anthony nodded again.

“I promise, it’s all going to be OK, son. No one’s going to make you leave, no matter what,” John gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze before he walked to the door. “I mean it Stevie. Tony needs to rest today. No basketball. No football. No surfing.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dad.”

“Pancakes sound OK for breakfast?”

“With chocolate chips?” Mary asked around a yawn.

John sighed and smiled at his kids. “Yeah. Coming right up.”

John left the room. Mary snuggled back into Anthony’s body and went back to sleep. And Steve kept caressing Anthony’s face.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Steve whispered. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Anthony shook his head.

“It’s fine, OK? It’s all good. Nobody’s upset with you,” Steve told him. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, kissed Anthony’s cheek and ran off, claiming he was going to help his father with breakfast.

“He’s probably going surfing without you, you know,” Mary told him, eyes still closed. “He’s such an ass.”

Anthony couldn’t help but laugh at that, despite the awful feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t seem to shake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapter wasn't posted earlier this evening. The day ran away from me. It was a good day, though. It was my birthday today! :D
> 
> Also, many apologies. I will be replying to all the comments from the previous chapter in the morning instead of tonight. I read all of them and appreciated all of them, and thank you jesco for remembering my birthday. You're so sweet. :D
> 
> Hope y'all like this chapter! More tomorrow!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter involving Tony and Steve's childhoods. Note that this is where the Consensual Underage Sex tag comes into play. So you know, be warned. Nothing overly graphic, and I am in no way advocating that fifteen year olds have sex, but you know, Tony did say that a Rockette took his virginity when he was fifteen in one of the episodes. ;)
> 
> Tomorrow we start the grown up part of the story.

Breakfast was rowdy and normal as far as things went. Nobody behaved any differently, other than being solicitous of Tony and ensuring that he didn’t overexert himself. And after breakfast, John tasked Steve and Mary with the clean up and took Anthony out to the beach for a walk. They ended up sitting in the sand, just out of reach of the water, and looked out at the surf pounding the shore. Seagulls dotted the sky. The sun was shining. It was a beautiful day.

“Steve and Mary told me what happened yesterday,” John started. “They didn’t want to, but we needed to know what happened. What set you off and made you have a panic attack.”

Anthony nodded, keeping his eyes down.

“I’m not upset, Tony. Not about what you said about this Magnum guy.”

“You’re not?” Anthony couldn’t help but look at John to see if he was telling the truth. And he was. Anthony knew when people were lying to him. Father had taught him that painful lesson a long time ago. “Why not? I’m all wrong. And bad. And Father would call me…”

“Son, there’s nothing wrong with you,” John interrupted gently. “And we don’t use any of those words in my house.”

Anthony swallowed and nodded.

John looked out at the ocean. “So you like guys?”

Anthony shrugged, fingers digging nervously in the sand. “Not _just_ guys,” he admitted.

“Girls _and_ guys?”

Anthony nodded.

“That’ll open your playing field, kid. You won’t have to limit yourself to just looking at just one half of the population,” John was matter of fact.

Anthony stared at him, eyes wide with surprise. “You’re not mad that I’m a freak?”

“Who says that you’re a freak?”

 _Everybody_ , Anthony’s brain supplied, but he just shrugged.

“Kid, you’re who you are. And you’re going to like whoever you like, boy girl or what have you. Ain’t nothing wrong with that. And there’s not a thing wrong with you, either.”

“Father has nasty names for what I am,” Anthony whispered. And Father would probably beat him half to death if he knew about this.

John put an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for a one-armed hug, ending it by ruffling his hair. “I’ve got some nasty names of my own for him myself, Tony.”

Anthony couldn’t help it. He giggled at that.

John smiled at him. “No more talk about sending you away, OK? None of that. You’re always welcome here. You’re _ohana_. I told you that last night, and I’m telling you that again. You’re family, Tony. Nothing can change that.”

And that was the end of that. And that night, Steve pulled him into his bed with him instead of letting Anthony sleep on the mattress as was his usual habit. When Anthony tried to ask the other boy what was going on, Steve just told him to shut up and go to sleep. Anthony fell asleep with Steve spooning him, arms around him, holding him close, his hot breath on Anthony’s neck. He didn’t know what was going on with Steve but he wasn’t going to complain that the most beautiful boy in the world wanted to snuggle with him while they slept. Nope. He was going to do the smart thing and just shut his mouth and enjoy it while he could.

Anthony slept in Steve’s bed with him every night after that, and even though John knew it was happening, he did nothing to stop it. And besides, it wasn’t like Anthony and Steve were _doing_ anything. They just slept in the same bed. Steve was more often than not spooning Anthony, and Anthony found that he very much enjoyed being the little spoon. And sure, Anthony did have to jerk off every morning in the shower, now that he didn’t need to imagine how Steve’s hand on his bare belly felt, because sometimes it was right there when his t-shirt rode up in his sleep. And Steve’s hot breath on the back of his neck was definitely a huge turn on. But Anthony jerked off quickly and discreetly in the shower, which in all honesty, wasn’t really a new thing with him. He’d been jerking off to images of Steve ever since they met. He was a healthy male teenager with a teenager’s libido, what else could he say? But other than that, everything seemed to be the same. The boys resumed surfing and playing ball, and Anthony continued to allow Mary to paint his fingernails and toenails, refusing to care what anyone else said about it. The boys tended to make fun of him for it, but the girls started to coo at him, finding his devotion to Steve’s little sister adorable, yet another reason for them to fall in love with him now that he was a foot taller than he was the previous year. And when they became persistent and annoying, Anthony rolled his eyes at Steve, but all the other boy did was smirk at him.

Yeah, those hazel eyes seemed to say. Shallow teenaged girls were _so_ easy. Anthony filed this information into his brain, in case it would ever come in handy. Maybe he would meet a girl that he would want to court, and all information about girls that he could process would come in handy at that time.

Besides their usual activities, Anthony flipped through magazines and books at the bookstore, constantly trying out new recipes and making meals for the McGarretts. And for the rest of the summer, if Anthony and Mary watched Magnum, PI or if Mary pointed out good looking men for Anthony to admire with her, they did it discreetly, and Mary held his hand and hugged him, and Steve helped him breathe, if he even showed any signs of beginning to hyperventilate again. Anthony had never felt so secure in his entire life. Not even when his mother had been alive, because she had been kind of hit and miss most of the time, depending on how much she was drinking that day.

On his final night in Hawaii, after a huge sushi meal at a restaurant, Anthony slipped into Steve’s bed first and was asleep before Steve came into the room. Anthony woke when the bed shifted and the mattress dipped towards Steve. He could tell that Steve was fresh from the shower, even as sleepy as he was he could smell Steve’s shampoo. He must have made a noise or asked a question, because Steve shushed him and settled into their normal sleeping position, carefully spooning him. He closed his eyes and was drifting back to sleep when he felt gentle fingers stroking up and down his arm and then he felt – did he feel lips on the back of his neck?

He stiffened, opened his eyes wide, and looked back to see Steve, eyes bright in the darkness, full of hope and desire. Was that look for him?

He turned onto his back, frowning. “What’s going on?” he mumbled.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve whispered.

“What? Why?” Anthony asked the question, before he bit his tongue. Why was he even questioning this? Why would he even ask why the most beautiful boy in the world wanted to kiss him? He should be screaming yes from the rooftops, instead of asking stupid ass questions! But he’d said it now and he couldn’t move or say anything else now, as if his body, including his tongue was paralyzed, anxiously awaiting Steve’s response.

Steve’s fingers were on his face now, trembling a little, pushing his hair out of his face. “Because I think I love you. I think I’ve loved you since Dad first brought you home.”

Anthony’s breath escaped him in a loud whoosh. “But why?”

“Because you were so, so sweet, and so earnest. So kind, and gentle and perfect. And you still are.”

Anthony stared at him. “Are you like me?” he finally whispered. “Do you like boys, too? Does John know?”

Steve nodded. “Dad knows. He’s known for a long time.”

“Oh.”

Steve smiled. “I couldn’t believe my luck that you liked boys, too.”

Anthony smiled then.

“Do you think you could maybe like me even a little bit, maybe at some point? Doesn’t have to be now or tonight. We don’t have to do anything…”

“Shut up,” Anthony told him. “I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you. A Hawaiian surf god. The most beautiful boy in the world.”

Steve laughed at that. “So, is that a yes? Can I kiss you?”

Anthony pulled him down and pressed their lips together. He’d never kissed anyone before and wasn’t quite sure what to do once Steve’s lips were on his, but Steve seemed to know what he was doing. Steve was nibbling and sucking at his lips, and when he opened his mouth to moan, the other boy pushed his tongue into his mouth. And then Anthony forgot all about being awkward and not knowing what to do because suddenly his heart was pounding in his chest, and he was having trouble breathing, and he was getting overheated but in a _very_ good way this time, and his dick was harder than it had ever been in his life. When Steve pulled back, Anthony whimpered. But Steve went up on his knees and pulled his own t-shirt off before he tugged Anthony’s shirt off. He hooked his fingers on the waistband of Anthony’s boxers and gave him a questioning look, giving him the opportunity to back out of this. Anthony raised his hips, his dick throbbing in the tented boxers. Steve grinned at him and carefully pulled Anthony’s underwear off, and he gasped when he saw his dick, hard and leaking.

At the shocked sound, Anthony began apologizing and covering himself with his hands but Steve pulled his hands away and kissed his knuckles.

“You’re perfect,” Steve told him, eyes huge and glassy, completely focused on Tony’s dick, bobbing in front of his face. “Can I kiss you here, too?”

“ _What?_ ”

“Fuck, Anthony. I want to suck your cock. Can I blow you?”

And good god, did Anthony want that. Not to mention the fact that his dick hardened even more when Steve called him ‘Anthony’. He nodded, unable to find any words.

Steve grinned at him before he turned his attention to Anthony’s erection, already freely leaking pre-cum. Tentatively he licked the top of his head and Anthony cried out, thrusting upwards.

Steve covered his mouth roughly and shushed him. “We don’t want Dad coming in here right now, do we?”

Anthony shook his head. And proceeded to muffle his cries and moans by stuffing his fists into his mouth as Steve went to town on his dick, sucking, licking, tasting it, tasting him. He didn’t last very long, coming suddenly and without warning when Steve deep throated him, practically asphyxiating himself with his fists, in an effort to silence himself. Steve crawled up his body and kissed him, and the taste of his own come on Steve’s tongue was making him hard again.

They spent the rest of the night napping and getting each other off, using their mouths and hands, and they were lucky nobody saw them going for the last morning surf session together, because Anthony was wrecked and covered in love bites and they were both liberally sprayed with come. But it all washed away in the ocean and Anthony covered his bruises with his traveling to the mainland clothes, secretly pleased that he would have mementos of Steve on his body for a while longer. At the airport, when they all went to send him off, Mary was crying, John hugged him tightly and called him ‘son’, and Steve hugged him as if he would never let him go, whispering words of love into his ears.

Anthony went to the next boarding school – because Father seemed to make it his goal in life to never let Anthony stay in any one school long enough to be happy or make any friends. And this year, instead of trying his best at school, Anthony went in the other direction. He missed Steve and Mary and John desperately. He thought about Steve and their last night together constantly, and in a school with communal showers and communal locker rooms and communal everything, he had absolutely no privacy. He couldn’t even jerk off to his memories of Steve in the shower or anywhere else. So he acted out. He stopped caring about his grades and schoolwork, and only ever cared about the piano lessons that he continued to take.

In this new school, he called himself Tony, and decided that he would act like an asshole, separating the good boy Anthony from the asshole rebel Tony. He was too tall now for the other boys to keep pushing around. The one time they tried, he pushed back, snarling, and they backed off. It was nice to finally be able to push back. But he continued to keep to himself and didn’t make any effort in trying to make any friends even though the other kids seemed to want to try and talk to him this time. Because why would he even bother? Father would only yank him out of this school and send him to another for absolutely no reason anyway, and he would never see any of these boys ever again. Why bother making any kind of effort at all. In fact, he went out of his way to make himself as unpleasant as possible to everyone. He was even expelled from a school that year. Father only found another boarding school to exile him to. But he continued to write to Steve and receive care packages from the McGarretts until one day it all fell apart again.

The summer Anthony turned sixteen, his father actually made him come home. He had remarried – again. And apparently, his new stepmother actually wanted to get to know him. Anthony didn’t even know how many stepmothers he’d already had in the eight years since his mother’s death and he was furious at not being able to spend the summer in Hawaii as he’d hoped to do, and he took being ordered home badly. He had been disowned and exiled. He didn’t need to be ordered home and forced to behave, as if Father would ever care about him. He wasn’t a performing monkey. He wasn’t going to just jump through hoops to make Father happy now that Father needed his cooperation to keep his stepmother happy. He kept a perpetual scowl on his face, directing it mostly at his father and his new stepmother, who was surprisingly, not someone barely older than he was, like the previous two stepmothers had been, but he had no doubt she was richer than god, which would be the only reason Father would have married her despite her ‘advanced’ age.

Anthony spent the first part of the summer sitting alone in his room, reading and watching his old movies over and over, reluctantly joining Father and his wife for dinner every night. Father had claimed that family dinners were traditional and mandatory, and Anthony had no other choice but to attend. He’d also been given his old duties of pouring Father’s scotch every evening. Father seemed to be on his best behavior in front of his wife and so Anthony wasn’t treated to any beatings, but Anthony had to wonder if that was also partly because he was now taller than his father was. He made secret phone calls in in the middle of the night to speak to Steve as often as he could, and ignored every overture his new stepmother made to get to know him. His plans to be in Hawaii being disrupted made Anthony angry and bitter, but the real upheaval came when one night, Anthony called Steve and Steve was falling apart. Steve was confused and angry and upset because his father was sending him to a boarding school, the Army and Navy Academy, for the new school year, and Mary was being sent to live with their aunt on the mainland for an indefinite period of time. They had no idea why John had made this decision. They were both being sent to live with the aunt immediately, and Steve would be going to the Army and Navy Academy in the fall.

The next night, Anthony snuck out of his father’s house and five days later made it as far as Idaho by bus, trying to get to California where Mary and Steve had been sent for the rest of the summer, before the police found him and brought him back home. It had been his stepmother who had reported him missing and Father was displeased with him. He took the rage, standing quietly in the study, until Father backhanded him. Anthony drew himself to his full height and glared at his father, realizing that for the first time, he was actually physically looking down at the man.

“You will _not_ touch me again,” he growled at his father.

Father gave him a surprised look but backed off. Anthony stomped out and slammed the study door as he left. He stayed in his room, refusing to come down for dinner.

There was a knock on the door after that, and Anthony thought that maybe it was Maria, their old cook, bringing him a dish. Maria had always tried to do right by him. But when he opened the door, he saw that it was his stepmother bringing him a tray of food. He gave her a confused look when she asked if she could come in. He opened the door wider, gesturing her in with a jerk of his head, and the woman swept in, putting the tray on his desk. She looked around the room, seeing how neat and orderly everything was. Her eyes glanced over his movies and the number of books arranged on his bookshelves.

“Why did you run away, Anthony?” she asked. She had even picked up on the fact that Anthony absolutely hated it when Father called him Junior.

Anthony sighed. “I wasn’t trying to run away,” he muttered. “A friend is in trouble. I just had to go see him.”

“Is this a friend from school?”

Anthony shrugged.

“What kind of trouble? Drugs? Is he doing drugs?”

Anthony scowled at her. “No. His father is a police detective. He and his sister are good kids.”

“But you thought you had to go to them?”

Anthony nodded.

The woman sighed. “Why didn’t you just tell us you had to go somewhere?”

Anthony scowled at his feet. As if Father had ever heard a word that he had to say. Her fingers on his chin made him flinch and scramble away.

“Did your father hit you, Anthony?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“I fell,” the lie came out of Anthony’s mouth, like it always had. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

The woman sighed. “Where do your friends live?”

“California.” It was where Steve and Mary had been sent, staying with their aunt until Steve could be sent to the Army and Navy Academy in the fall.

She nodded. “I’ll get you a plane ticket to fly out there for a week. Would that be all right with you?”

Anthony stared at her, wide eyed with shock. “Why would you even _do_ this for me?”

“You seem like a good kid.”

“My schools think I’m a troublemaker.”

She gave him a smile. “I looked at your school records. You were a good student until this last year. Did something happen?”

Anthony looked at his feet again.

She sighed, as the boy sat silently for long minutes. “Where do your friends live again?”

“Eureka, California.”

She sighed and nodded. “Can I speak to their parents first before I buy you a plane ticket?”

Anthony’s eyes widened again and he nodded. He wanted to tell her to leave Father as she was clearly way too good for him but he bit his tongue and stayed silent. He didn’t know her and she might only be pretending to like him. She could turn around and tell Father things and it would not go well for him if she did. But as it turned out, he was sent to California to Steve and Mary and their aunt by his new stepmother, and he ended up staying for the rest of the summer because Father was too busy being divorced by the woman for being a terrible father. Anthony didn’t know what John might have said to the woman when she called him to talk about the possibility of sending Anthony to California for a week to see his friends, but apparently it was enough for her to leave Father. Anthony was glad that he was far out of Father’s reach for the rest of the summer or he had no doubt that Father would blame him for yet another divorce, and would try to take his anger out on him. He might be taller than the man, but it didn’t mean that Father wouldn’t be able to whip him or something. He wouldn’t put it past the man.

In California, Steve and Anthony didn’t even bother to hide that they would be sharing the same bed, and all the aunt did was give them a supply of lubricant and condoms and admonished them to stay safe. Anthony was shocked because he and Steve hadn’t actually done it done it on his last night in Hawaii the previous summer, and he didn’t even have any idea how to even begin doing it for real. But again, Steve seemed to know what he was doing, claiming that he had researched it extensively by watching bootleg gay porn movies. So despite a slightly awkward and clumsy and not a little bit uncomfortable beginning, Anthony and Steve started a fully sexual relationship that summer, and Anthony was grateful to be in California with Steve and Mary, even if there was no John and no surfing.

Unfortunately, Steve was furious with his father and continued to be, while Anthony, not wanting to see his _ohana_ torn to pieces, ended up being the one who spoke to John on the phone while Steve gave his father the silent treatment. Anthony was also the one who comforted Mary at being sent away from their home, trying to assure her that John must have a reason for this, and that maybe they could get him to talk about it. He tried to tell Steve that John sounded worried and scared, and perhaps there was more to this than they understood, but Steve was inconsolable. He had been tagged to be the starting quarterback for their high school football team and now he was going to an all new school far away from everything and everyone he knew. In the end, all Anthony could do was comfort him the best he could, without hope of arranging any kind of reconciliation between Steve and John before he had to go back to school.

Anthony spent the next school year working hard to get kicked out of every school Father sent him to, and at the end of it, he was escorted to a military styled summer camp and kept there against his will all summer with limited access to letters from the outside world. Steve, in the meantime, was excelling at the Army and Navy Academy. Anthony was well on his way to being a juvenile delinquent when he finally landed at Remington, and there he changed his life yet again, because a teacher, the basketball coach, took an interest in him and gave him the freedom to want things for himself instead of being told what to want and who to be. He was marginally happy there, and he loved being on the basketball team. And at his high school graduation, John McGarrett was the only one who turned up to cheer him on. Whatever the problem was in having his children with him in Hawaii, John was still a presence in Steve and Mary’s lives, and he even made the effort to be a part of Anthony’s. Anthony couldn’t help but love him even more.

And when Steve decided to enlist in the Navy to follow in the proud McGarrett family tradition, he and Anthony agreed to break up, whatever it was that they had between them. It wouldn’t be safe, for one thing, for Steve to have a relationship with another boy while he was in the Navy, and Steve told Anthony that he was letting him go to live his own life and be free. Despite his broken heart, Anthony embraced life at Ohio State. He redefined himself yet again, this time establishing himself as a ladies’ man (the thought of being with any guy that wasn’t Steve was too much for him to bear), becoming a basketball and football player, joining a fraternity, and quickly amassing a trail of broken hearts. However, he regularly kept in touch with John and Mary, even though he rarely heard from Steve throughout his college years.

Two days after the Wolverine broke his leg, Anthony found himself crying into John’s shirt, mourning the loss of his pro football career and trying to figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his life. John stayed a few days, and was a quiet and calming presence in Anthony’s hospital room. He became a reminder to the young man that football was only one of the things he could do with his life. John was the one who told him that the world was still wide open to him, and that whatever he now chose to do, it would be worthy, as long as it was something he loved and was passionate about. John and Mary both attended his graduation from OSU, both of them cheering and screaming with pride for him.

So, afterwards, when Anthony decided to go to the police academy, he was giving the finger to his own father and at the same time, honoring Steve’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, thank you so much for the kudos, comments, and all the lovely birthday wishes! You guys are the best! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'll reply to last chapter's comments in the morning, again!
> 
> Catch y'all tomorrow! :D
> 
> -j  
> xoxo


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of Part II, we get to the grown up Tony and Steve part.
> 
> I am so so sorry that I haven't replied to comments the last couple of chapters and didn't post the next chapter yesterday. I kind of ended up re-writing this chapter somewhat and kept not being happy with it and kind of got stuck in that editing loop. My apologies. I'll try to reply to comments throughout the day. I do appreciate it all, so thank you.
> 
> Another chapter tomorrow, hopefully, unless I end up in another vicious editing loop cycle! *fingers crossed*

**Part II: Family**

[](https://i.imgur.com/eQnwcSo.png)

Tony was slouched on his sofa, slurping down a beer as he watched the NFL playoff game on his wide screen TV. It had been a long and tiring weekend. They’d caught a hot case earlier in the week and of course Gibbs wouldn’t let it lie until they closed it so he’d been working too many days in a row and he was fucking exhausted. He finished his beer and stared at it sadly, wishing that he didn’t have to get up to get a refill. Did he want another beer? Sure. Did he have the energy to get up and get it? No. Sometimes a butler would definitely come in handy, he thought to himself. Or a spouse. A spouse would be even better. But nope. Just him, home alone, with his TV and his empty bottle. Fuck his life.

He reflexively checked his phone, hoping that he hadn’t missed a call as he’d zoned out on the football game. Just thinking about the case. And he shook his head. The case was over, and they’d gotten the guy. It was time to walk away. It wasn’t even one of those that really bugged him, but he was getting itchy in his skin. He checked his phone again and decided to send a text.

He wasn’t being needy, he told himself. He just missed the guy, is all. He hadn’t seen him over a year and even though they both knew this was how it would always be, for as long as they both wanted to do what they wanted to do with their lives, it didn’t stop him from missing the man. They always figured that one day, when the time was right, they would finally be able to be open about being together. It just was too risky for Tony, in his line of work, to come out, and for Steve, well, DADT was still going strong. So for now, they kept it all under wraps.

They had gone their separate ways when Steve enlisted in the Navy and Tony went to OSU, and there was a period of time when even their letters to each other, something they had done for years and years, slowed down and even stopped for a while. Tony continued to keep in touch with John, especially after he became a cop. He heard from Mary occasionally, but nothing from Steve for a long while. But after Wendy called off their wedding, Steve surprised him with a long and emotional visit, during which time they agreed to get back together and try it again, despite the challenges of both of their chosen careers, the necessity for secrecy, and the mostly long distance nature of it. So yeah. Tony had known what he was getting himself into, getting back together with Steve. He was no longer the star struck fifteen year old, amazed that the most beautiful boy in the world would deign to want to kiss him. He was an adult now, he’d had other lovers, a few relationships, and had even come close to marrying someone else. But yet, he was still bowled over by Steve, who had grown up to be traffic-stoppingly hot, as he’d predicted he would be. Steve, with his chiseled jaw and amazing bone structure, SEAL-trained hard muscles, and even harder cock. Shit. His man was the hottest thing ever, and Tony was still always surprised that Steve would still want to be with him. Steve knew everything about him, even all the ugly parts, the parts of himself that he hated, and he still wanted him. It continued to blow his mind. But Steve had been his touchstone for most of his life, and to slip back into a relationship with him had been the easiest decision in the world. They had never had a conventional thing, anyway, always ever being long distance. But there were times, like tonight, when Tony just wanted him. Needed him. There were times when it just was really hard to not have Steve with him.

Fuck, Tony needed to reach out to the man tonight. Needed to feel more connected. He tapped out a message, telling him the game score, sneaking in a sappy ‘wishing you were here’ somewhere in there even though he knew Steve knew that, and would probably shake his head at that. He just wasn’t really the sappy kind. But who the hell knew where the man was in the world. Tony didn’t have the kind of clearance to know the details of what he was up to, and that was fine with him. If he knew the kind of dangers Steve was up against, he wasn’t too sure he’d be OK with just waiting around while he did his own job. He would want to do something about it. So he tried not to think too hard about what Steve was up to every day. He knew better than to expect any kind of answer for his text, not right away. But just putting it out there made him feel a little better.

If he’d realized that he would be getting so melancholy, he would have just gone to Gibbs’ tonight and sat on his basement step. Gibbs knew the other side of it, having been on active duty and deployed away from his wife and child for months on end. Gibbs understood it, understood how he felt. Understood how it felt when Tony felt that itch under his skin, that sting of loneliness and helplessness and _need_. And Tony knew that if it got too much for him, that he could go to Gibbs for comfort. Well, Gibbs’ version of comfort, at least. Just being in the presence of someone who knew how he felt was usually enough. Someone who understood the pain of being parted with their loved one while being deployed. Who understood the sacrifice for the greater good. And who, from personal and painful experience, knew exactly how to encourage him to savor what little time he and Steve might be able to have together while Steve was on active duty. When he found out about them, Gibbs had been surprisingly completely understanding and supportive of his secret relationship with Steve, and provided a safe haven for him when he needed it, and Tony couldn’t have asked for anything more when he’d agreed to take the job with NCIS, five years ago.

Tony sighed, wishing that he had another beer, or that he was at Gibbs’, wallowing in misery together, or that Steve would just magically be there. He checked his phone again and stopped himself from tapping out more needy messages, not wanting to distract Steve from whatever super secret and super dangerous assignment he was currently on. He knew the drill. When Steve went dark like this, and he’d been dark for the last three weeks, Tony knew that he was on a mission and he would receive these messages whenever the mission was completed. It was just the way it was. And it was better, so it didn’t distract Steve or his team from whatever their objective might be.

Tony briefly considered picking himself off of the sofa and heading out to Gibbs’, but realized that it would take too much energy for him to do that so he thunked his head back on the back of the sofa. He should just go to bed. Maybe he could jerk off and that would turn his brain off enough to try to sleep. But sometimes jerking off to his memories of Steve only made things worse after he came and realized that he was still alone.

Impatient at his own neediness, Tony tossed his phone onto the coffee table and forced himself off the comfortable couch and into the kitchen. He could drown his sorrows with more alcohol. The night was still young. He grabbed a bottle from the fridge, deposited the empty by the sink to be rinsed and recycled later, and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. Might as well have his dinner too. As he shuffled back to the living room, the doorbell rang. And then a key pushed into the lock.

Gibbs, then, Tony thought, since Gibbs had a key to his apartment. Maybe he’d realized that Tony needed company. Sometimes the man was prescient, and seemed to just know how Tony was feeling, and had been known to do the nicest things. He stuck the apple between his teeth and went back to the fridge to get a beer out for Gibbs. Tony could be nice, too. Although he would have to work on his masks if Gibbs could tell how much he was missing Steve and needed company that day.

“Heads up, Gibbs,” he mumbled around the apple and tossed the bottle.

The bottle was caught by nimble fingers, but Tony’s eyes widened in surprise and the apple fell onto the floor from his gaping mouth. “Steve?” he murmured, thinking he had to be hallucinating or something. “How…?”

“Hi, honey, I’m home!” Steve quipped, grinning at him, holding the bottle of beer by the neck as he took his cover off and slipped it under his arm. “Surprise!”

Tony took in the short dark hair, the bright hazel eyes, looking tired, and the sexy smile, along with the rest of the man’s clothes. Steve was wearing his dress blues. Tony’s eyes immediately lit up and he blindly put his beer down and stalked over to Steve, as the man shut his front door. He pulled Steve into his arms and kissed him, like a man dying of thirst taking his first sip of cool, clear water. His lips slanted over Steve’s, tasting, exploring, reacquainting himself with Steve’s entire mouth, and he moaned when Steve sucked on his tongue and nipped at his lips.

“Hi, baby,” Steve finally pulled away, putting their foreheads together, fingers buried in Tony’s hair. “You doing OK? Your last text was a little pathetic.”

“Fuck you,” Tony grumbled. “Way to ruin a moment.”

Steve laughed and Tony’s burdens seemed to disappear into thin air. Steve was there! In his arms. Tony buried his face in Steve’s neck and hung on tight, inhaling his scent – underneath the smell of the starched and ironed uniform, the polished brass, underneath Steve’s aftershave, was that same scent of salt and surf that he’d smelled on Steve when they’d first met. Steve would forever, in his mind, be that most beautiful boy in the world who taught him to surf at his dad’s house in Oahu, when he had been abandoned and forgotten by his own father.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Steve’s strong arms were around him, one hand running up and down his back soothingly. “I’m in my dress blues and you haven’t even looked at it, never mind your promise to climb me like a tree next time you saw me in this? D’you know the strings I had to pull in order to get debriefed last so I could come right here afterwards, still in this?”

Tony pulled back, realizing that he had tears in his eyes. “You’re here,” he sniffled. “I can’t believe you’re here! How did you…? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

Steve might have been joking about the climbing him like a tree, but his hand on Tony’s face was gentle and his eyes concerned. “I wanted to surprise you,” he said, looking into Tony’s green eyes, thumb rubbing soothing circles on Tony’s bottom lip. “Surprise!” he exclaimed, feeling better when Tony rolled his eyes and finally grinned at him.

“I’m OK,” Tony sighed.

“Is it the plague thing? I thought you told me…”

“It’s not the plague thing,” Tony rolled his eyes for real this time. “I’m totally fine. That was, like, last year.”

“It hasn’t been a year since the Gunny called me, telling me how sick you were,” Steve said somberly. “I even talked to Dad, and he didn’t want to tell me just how sick you were. But I could tell he didn’t think you were going to make it, babe.” And that had been a big deal, Steve actually having a conversation with John. John had been the one to rush to the hospital, to be there for Tony, especially since Steve was stuck on a mission halfway around the world at the time.

“I’m fine, Steve. I know you’re still concerned, but really, that’s not it. I’m just… tired. Worked like crazy to catch this guy who was cutting up women, and we got him. And I’m just tired. And lonely. Missed you,” Tony pressed his lips against Steve’s again, gently this time, savoring him, tasting him, the kiss slowly deepening.

Finally Steve pulled back so they could both breathe, and he frowned at Tony’s panted breaths. “You need your inhaler?”

Tony shook his head. “I’m _fine!_ ”

Steve snorted. “Let me look at you…”

Tony pulled back and Steve looked him up and down, noting the exhaustion and the bags under the eyes. In return, Tony gave him a thorough look as well, taking him in his dress blues. Tony’s eyes began gleaming predatorily.

“Fuck, Steve… I definitely need to climb you like a tree,” he ran his hands over Steve’s chest and back, before he squeezed his ass cheeks under those dress pants. “Or eat you for dinner. God damn. They sure make ‘em pretty in Hawaii.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

Tony plucked the beer from Steve’s fingers, dropping it on the coffee table and he grabbed his phone, dialing Gibbs. Lacing his fingers with Steve’s, he began dragging the man into the bedroom.

“Hey, Boss? I need tomorrow morning off,” he told Gibbs without preamble.

“What for?” came Gibbs’ gruff response.

“Steve’s home,” Tony couldn’t keep the joy out of his voice.

Gibbs grunted. “Take the day. See ya day after.” Then he hung up.

Tony tossed his phone onto his bedside table as he quickly shucked off his clothes, and sat himself on the bed, stark naked, his dick already standing at attention. “Put your cover back on,” he told Steve huskily.

“Pretty sure what’s going down now is not appropriate,” Steve kidded.

“I won’t tell, even if they ask,” Tony promised solemnly, and Steve could see that Tony’s pupils were dilating, and his heartrate and respiration speeding up. “I have the day off tomorrow so we have a lot of time. There’s absolutely no rush.”

Steve glanced down at Tony’s erection. “I don’t know. You look pretty impatient.”

“Just give me a minute to admire the view,” Tony murmured, eyes trained on Steve, in his Service Dress Blues, navy blue suit coat fitting him perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and slim hips. Even more ribbons were on his left breast, gold stripes indicating his rank on his sleeves. Tony smiled at him, drinking in the sight before him, cover on his head, pants impeccably pressed, shoes shined. He pressed the heel of his hand on his dick. Steve was ridiculously hot. “C’mere,” he whispered, standing up.

Steve smiled back, that sweet, sexy smile that only Tony ever saw, and stepped forward until he was in Tony’s arms. They kissed, slow and sensuous, while Tony carefully unbuttoned and peeled the coat and shirt off, kissing and licking every inch of bared skin. Tony hanged the coat over the back of a chair and flung the white shirt somewhere, before he knelt and unbuckled Steve’s belt. He undid the pants and slowly drew down the zipper, letting Steve’s pants pool around his ankles as he mouthed at Steve’s cock, still in his boxer briefs. There was already a damp spot on the front of Steve’s underwear, making Tony smile up at him.

“Come on,” Steve urged. “C’mon. Can we move this along? I’ve been waiting for you for too long now.”

Tony chuckled naughtily as he kept mouthing Steve’s dick through the material. Finally he pulled the briefs down, following it with biting kisses down the insides of Steve’s thighs, causing him to gasp and moan. He quickly helped Steve out of his shoes and socks and tossed the pants and underwear aside. Steve hissed when Tony wrapped his lips around his cock and sucked. He tossed his cap aside and pulled Tony up by the hair.

“Later,” he told the man, kissing him hard and pushing him on the bed. “I need you now.”

Tony moved back on the bed, reaching into his bedside drawer for the lube, smirking at the hungry look in Steve’s eyes. He laid on his back and spread his arms and legs. “Have at it,” he told him, looking at him from underneath his lashes.

Steve wasted no time, kneeling on the bed and slicking his fingers up and immediately sinking one finger into Tony’s hole, pushing in all the way to his knuckle. Tony gasped and clenched, panting. When his body relaxed, Steve began working him, quickly and carefully, finding Tony’s prostate quickly. Tony was begging for more, holding the base of his leaking dick, holding off his orgasm. Steve lubed his cock and shoved himself into his lover. Tony cried out, but immediately wrapped his legs around Steve, urging him on as he began thrusting.

Steve was trying to make it last, but Tony was begging for more, and harder, and right there, and Tony was so hot and wet and so fucking tight. He kept fucking into the man, nailing his prostate, hard and harder, he kept on going. Tony’s blunt fingernails were scratching down his back, as he growled and snarled, and begged for more. It was ridiculously hot, and Tony lost himself in Steve, cursing and moaning and making animalistic noises.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve panted as he kept on thrusting. “Fuck, I’m close. I’m gonna come inside you.”

“Yeah,” Tony snarled, hands on Steve’s ass, pulling him in hard. “Yeah, yeah, come inside me. Do it. Fucking come inside me already.”

Steve’s drove himself into Tony, angling it just so and Tony screamed as he came. Steve fucked in once more before he stiffened and emptied himself, pulsing long and hard into Tony’s ass before collapsing on top of him. It was moments later when Tony came back to himself, with Steve dropping soft, nibbling kisses on his face, his jaw, his neck, his collarbone.

“Back with me?” Steve asked.

“Mmm,” Tony hummed. Steve continued to kiss him and pet him, and he sighed, before he relaxed and dropped his legs back on the bed, fingers buried in Steve’s hair.

Now that they were sated, the earlier need satisfied and the urgency briefly abated, they continued to kiss, deep, gentle, tender kisses, reassuring each other of their presence, of their love, of everything that they’d kept to themselves for the duration of their separation. Steve leaned down and idly played with Tony’s nipple and smattering of chest hair, calloused fingers making Tony hum and sigh in contentment.

“So what’s the deal? Why have you been so down lately? The Gunny not treating you right?” Steve asked softly.

Tony raised his head and met Steve’s eyes. “Way to ruin my first post-coital high in over a year, dude,” he grumbled.

Steve smiled. “You’ve been down lately. You know it makes me worry.”

Tony sighed and closed his eyes. “I can’t put my finger on it,” he finally said.

“Work stuff?”

“Yeah. What else do I have in my life other than work and my super secret SEAL long-term boyfriend?” Tony snarked. “And I only have the usual worry about my boyfriend always out there putting himself in harm’s way.”

“Not like your job’s safe, babe. Exhibit A: mutated strain of the pneumonic plague being sent to your office by some brain tumor crazed woman?” Steve said wryly.

“I know. I’m not being critical. You love being a SEAL, and I love being a cop. It’s who we are.” Tony’s words were simple and matter of fact. They had no illusions about the other. “I wouldn’t ask you to stop being you, and you wouldn’t ask me to stop being me.”

“Yeah,” Steve grinned as he kissed Tony again. “Thank you.”

Tony smiled up at him, his eyes soft with love. Steve always thanked him when he got home. Always thanked him for waiting for him, for his faith and love despite the distance and the secrecy. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, my macho cop boyfriend. Dad’s so proud of you, you know that,” Steve smiled. He and John had reconciled somewhat during Tony’s battle with the plague. “Sometimes I think he’d be happier if you’d been his son. And not me.”

Tony wrapped his legs around Steve and held him close. It was an old hurt. He knew that Steve felt that if Tony had been John’s son, then they wouldn’t have been sent away. Steve still somehow blamed himself for being exiled from Hawaii, and he’d been estranged from John for years because of it, despite Tony trying to keep the peace between them, prior to Tony’s illness. Things weren’t great between them now, but at least the lines of communication were finally open again.

“He loves you, Steve. And he _is_ proud of you. Whatever mistakes he might have made along the way, at least you know that he loves you and Mary. He’s just trying to do his best, whether he was right or wrong. Unlike Father. Well…”

Steve snorted with disgust. “Yeah. I’ll give you that.” He sighed. “You definitely win in the asshole father competition.”

“Not a good competition to win,” Tony said sadly.

“So. Run it by me then. What’s the problem with your work now?” Steve changed the subject, steering it away from his father and Tony’s.

Tony pursed his lips, and began gnawing on his lower lip as he gathered his thoughts.

Steve kissed his cheek and licked it, every time Tony’s dimples appeared and disappeared as he chewed on his lips. “Missed your fucking dimples,” Steve told him. “And your pretty eyes. And your pouty lips.”

Tony blushed and gave him a pleased smile.

“Maybe you can just start by telling me how Gunny’s been treating you?”

Tony sighed. “It’s been weird,” he finally said heavily. “Since Kate died.”

Steve nodded and put his forehead on Tony’s again. “I’m so, so sorry you lost Kate.”

Tony gave him a sad smile. “Yeah well, I mean this is all classified but you could look up our case files if you wanted to. Your clearance is higher than mine. But her killer was a Mossad agent, a sleeper planted in Hamas. And he was supposed to have been trying to take Hamas down. But turns out, he’s Ari Haswari, who’s Eli David’s secret illegitimate son with a Palestinian doctor.”

“Eli David? Director of Mossad Eli David?”

“Yup. That’s the one,” Tony nodded.

“His son killed Kate?”

Tony nodded again.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. He was on a rampage. Wanted to take us out. Even tried for Abby.”

Steve stared at him. “Then what? How’d you stop him?”

“Gibbs supposedly took him out. Shot him in his basement.”

“Did it damage the boat?”

“Boat’s fine,” Tony rolled his eyes. Steve loved Gibbs’ boat for whatever reason.

“I still don’t see how he’s going to get that fucker out of his basement. Why does he even build it down there?”

“Where else would any less than sane person build a fucking boat?”

Steve shook his head. “You say ‘supposedly’ regarding this incident with Ari Haswari. You don’t sound convinced,” he brought it back to the serious subject at hand.

“Trajectory’s not right,” Tony said softly. “I can read a crime scene pretty well, you know. From the pictures that I saw, Gibbs couldn’t have shot him from where he said he was. There’s no way he could have. So either he wasn’t where he said he was, or there was a third person there.”

“But if Ari’s dead, then is there still a problem? Whatever Gibbs isn’t telling, is it that important if this Ari guy got taken out before anyone else could get killed?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” Tony sighed and rubbed his face. “His handler was Ziva David.”

Steve gave it a moment of thought. “Eli David’s daughter?”

Tony nodded slowly.

“Isn’t she on your team now, you said?”

Tony nodded again.

“Why, exactly?”

Tony shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you. One day we’re telling her to stop touching Kate’s stuff, the next she’s packing Kate’s stuff into a box and Gibbs doesn’t put up much of a fuss.”

“Gibbs doesn’t yell and scream and chase her off the team?”

Tony shook his head.

“Interesting.”

“Isn’t it?” Tony said. “And she’s changed the team dynamics. They’re really being… Shit I’m being such a girl about it. But the only word I can think of is that they’ve become really mean to me,” Tony sighed. “I know I don’t show them a lot of the real me, but you’d have thought that other than Ziva, the others would recall some of the real bits of me they’ve seen over the years, you know? Gibbs included. Sometimes I wonder if Gibbs even remembers the real me.”

“You still frat boying it up for the rest of the world, Anthony?”

Tony’s grin was bitter. “Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo at your service.”

“And this Ziva woman’s lapping it up?”

“Hook, line and sinker.”

Steve hummed thoughtfully. “But you don’t trust this woman?”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t know if I can or if I should. I mean, why does Mossad need a liaison working murders and major crimes on NCIS?” Tony asked softly. “I don’t understand that part. Why is she sticking around after the whole Ari thing ended?”

Steve saw the green eyes full of worry and rubbed his scalp comfortingly. “Yeah, that’s a very interesting question.”

“Why did she get to replace Kate so quickly?” Tony asked. “Besides, she’s Ari’s half sister. Why is the half sister of Kate’s killer on my team now?”

Steve was gritting his teeth now. “And what’s the Gunny say about all this?”

“Won’t talk to me about it,” Tony bit his lip. “Refuses to.”

“Isn’t _that_ interesting?”

“Mm-hmmm,” Tony blew out a long breath. “I can already see how she’s trying to undermine me. With Gibbs. The dumbass probie’s totally under her spell, and she’s winning Abby over, too. She’s working really hard to make me be seen as a dead weight, the stupid idiot who can’t find his own elbow with a map, you know?”

Steve growled. “You need to do something about that.”

“I know… but what if there’s more to this?” Tony was absolutely serious now. “She’s their wetworks ninja chick. What’s she doing on the MCRT? If she’s going to be a Mossad liaison, she should be on some kind of terrorist taskforce – with Homeland or even the FBI. NCIS is small potatoes. Half the time, when we flash our badges, people look at us and think we made it at Kinko’s and misspelled CSU.”

Steve laughed at that.

“The thing is though, I keep thinking that we might be small but we still have the same clearance as every other alphabet soup,” Tony finished.

Steve abruptly stopped laughing.

“Yeah. That’s the shit I’m worrying about,” Tony began chewing on his lip again.

“Don’t turn your back on her,” Steve was serious now.

“Believe me, I won’t.”

“And you’re just going to watch her? By yourself?”

“Gibbs isn’t listening to me,” Tony snarled in frustration. “He’s got these damn blinders on! Every time there’s a woman involved, they’re either his dead wife or his dead daughter. They walk all over him. He talks big but he folds like a cheap whore when they make demands of him.”

“There’s a reason the man has three ex-wives.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but if it comes to that…”

“What about your director? You can’t go to her with these concerns?”

Tony snorted loudly. “Her? Seriously, that woman is… I just keep thinking that she’s in cahoots with Mossad. For all I know, she’s sleeping with Eli David. And from Gibbs’ reaction to her, he definitely used to sleep with her.”

“Not seriously?”

“Gibbs? Yeah. Seriously,” Tony shrugged. “Mossad, I don’t know. Would explain why Mossad has someone with no training on crime scene procedures, or the law on the MCRT. Plus, the director and Ziva go back a ways. They used to work together.”

“That’s troubling.”

Tony grunted his agreement.

“So how did they get the Gunny to join the ‘we love Ziva David’ club?” Steve asked.

Tony licked his lips. “My theory? Ziva was the third person. She shot Ari. She saved Gibbs’ life and voila, she’s in good with him.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “That’d get her in my good books too.”

“But what if…” Tony trailed away, hesitant to voice his theory.

“Tell me.”

“It’s, like, all Mel Gibson _Conspiracy Theory_. I feel like I should break out the tin foil hats.”

“Say it out loud. Maybe it’s not as crazy as you think it is.”

Tony sighed. “What if Ari wasn’t a rogue agent?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if Ari’s orders were to appear as if he were to go rogue and to kill Kate.”

“Why?”

“Whatever it is his dad might have told him, probably doesn’t matter. Way I see it, he kills Kate to make an opening. And then he’s ordered to kill Gibbs.”

“And then what?”

“Then maybe Ziva’s orders were to kill Ari to supposedly save Gibbs’ life. And suddenly she can fill the hole that Kate left.”

“That would be devious. And evil. Could a father order one child to kill another?”

“Senior would’ve killed me if it profited him in any way,” Tony said softly. “He would have played me against my siblings if I’d had any. Including to the death if it made him money. In a heartbeat, no question.”

Steve sighed. He couldn’t argue with that.

“So? Should I go look for the tin foil?”

“When you string it all together like that it does sound ridiculous…” Steve said slowly.

“Is there a ‘but’ coming?”

“Definitely a butt coming,” Steve squeezed Tony’s ass, making him laugh. “ _But_ it’s disturbingly plausible.”

“And now we have a Mossad liaison who has access to classified things on our team,” Tony finished. “A Mossad spy-slash-assassin on an investigative team.”

“When you put it like that…”

Tony rubbed his nose along Steve’s jaw. “It’s exhausting, worrying about this shit,” he finally admitted it. “And have no one to talk to about it.”

“I’ll make a call…”

“No, Steve. You can’t. Gibbs’ll kill me if we don’t settle this in house.”

“This could be treason if you sit on it.”

“I _know_.”

Steve sighed and nodded. “What do you want to do? I’ll follow your lead, babe.”

Tony shrugged. “I want to keep trying to gather evidence. See what unravels if I pull at a thread or two.”

Steve gave him a long look. “Just, watch your back.”

Tony nodded.

“And see if you can’t get the Gunny’s head out of his ass about this.”

Tony nodded again.

“Because I’m going to be the one to shoot him if anything happens to you.”

Tony smiled. And then Steve’s belly rumbled and Tony rolled his eyes. He pushed Steve off him. “C’mon. Let me fix you some food.”

“Mmm, shower first. I got you all dirty,” Steve grabbed his bicep and yanked him to the bathroom. “And besides, I haven’t gotten to taste your cum yet today.”

“Round two, shower sex! Woohoo!” Tony cheered up right away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains major spoilers for Boxed In.
> 
> I know. All I do is apologize and make excuses. The day just got away from me again. Sorry. I hope you guys like this!

The next day, when Tony was back at work and Steve left sleeping in, they received a tip about weapons being smuggled into the port of Baltimore. Tony and Ziva were assigned to canvass the docks.

When they decided to switch locations, Tony had tried to call it in but cell phone reception at the docks was ridiculously bad. He wasn’t sure if he’d gotten through to McGee at all. But he chose not to worry about it too much as they drove away from the North Expansion. During the drive, he was keeping his eyes open, based on what one of the dockworkers they’d spoken to had said, about suspicious looking people at the docks, not at the North Expansion, but ‘suspicious’ could be anything from thieves trying to steal cargo to the possible West Africans smuggling illegal weapons that they had had a tip about. They needed more information because right now it was like searching for a needle in the proverbial haystack, this haystack being one of the largest active ports in the country.

He knew he was babbling on about what he had supposedly been up to the previous night to Ziva, their beautiful, unexpected and dangerous addition to the team. Kate had made sense to him – she had a profiling background, she had been Secret Service, and she had been like a sister to him. That he had ended up with her brain matter all over his face had been a tragedy that he knew he would never get over, no matter how brave a face he put on it. She’d been annoying and violent with those smacks and the sharp elbows, but she had also been caring and kind, and secretly, she’d liked him despite his boorish behavior towards her.

They’d had a friendship, despite it all. She had even actually made him her emergency contact after that case with Gibbs’ old CO. And he missed her terribly every day.

Ziva though, she was Mossad. She was still Mossad, through and through, no matter what kind of ‘liaison’ role she was supposed to be in. Tony hadn’t seen much liaisoning, for one, just the MCRT conducting investigations, business as usual. And as he’d said to Steve, why NCIS would need a Mossad liaison on the Major Case Response Team, he still didn’t understand.

Gibbs had ended up accepting her without questioning Shepard too much, which had at first baffled Tony but later it definitely made him believe that something more was behind Gibbs’ decision not to throw her off their team. Other probationary agents and TADs had been kicked out even though they knew far more than she did about working cases, having gone through FLETC training. Ziva had no training to deal with crime scenes, no knowledge of US Law or the Uniform Code of Military Justice, and basically no idea how to work on a team, even. She was a spy and, Tony suspected, an assassin. Why would someone who was a trained killer for Mossad and the Mossad Director’s daughter to boot even need to be placed on a team with the NCIS? NCIS wasn’t as big and reputable as other federal agencies, like the FBI. NCIS was the tiny little engine that could, that dealt almost exclusively with crimes perpetrated by and against members of the US Navy and the US Marine Corp. So why was Ziva still on their team, after Gibbs had killed Ari? Tony couldn’t help but keep wondering about that.

Tony didn’t want to doubt Gibbs after all these years of working together, of trusting Gibbs more than he had ever trusted anyone but the McGarretts. But he knew Gibbs, and that was exactly why he doubted Gibbs’ seemingly easy capitulation to allowing Ziva to come on their team, even giving her Kate’s old desk? What the hell was up with that? He had fully expected not only to have a revolving door of TADs for at least six months after Kate died, and that the TADs would be assigned a temporary desk somewhere not quite out of sight of Gibbs but certainly not front and center like that, and that Kate’s desk would be kept as is for a little while, as a shrine and a reminder of who they had lost.

But no. Kate had barely just been buried and then Ziva was there, boxing up her things, as if she was even good enough to touch any of Kate’s things.

It still burned Tony that that had happened. He’d tried to ask Gibbs about it, but the man had been even more close mouthed than usual, so Tony had been forced to leave it alone. He knew when pushing Gibbs would do no good, and this was one of those times. But he was definitely keeping his eyes and ears open around Ziva, and refusing to give out too much information about himself. And much like how he’d behaved when Kate was around, he played up the annoying frat boy as much as he possibly could and flirted outrageously with Ziva, propositioning her as often as he could. He found that by doing this, he not only lulled people into thinking he was nothing more than a shallow dumb pretty boy but it also allowed him to make conclusions on the people he was with, based on how they decided to treat him and talk to him.

And Ziva obviously not only did not respect him one bit, but she also seemed to keep giving him mixed messages, one minute trying to want to lure him into her bed and yet the next, holding him at arm’s length, usually when he was acting up. But she was undermining him and his role on the MCRT, and messing with his team and his friends. He wasn’t sure what game it was she was playing and he really didn’t like that she was involving people he thought of as his family. Tony DiNozzo didn’t have much by way of family, so the people he did love he would protect to the death. And Ziva was definitely playing with his NCIS family, trying to figure out the family dynamics of their little band of misfits, and how she could disrupt it.

Having had the conversation with Steve, Tony was extra aware of his suspicions. So during the drive over, Tony kept his eyes open while he maintained his frat boy mask, talking about mud wrestling and describing it to her in great detail, as being the activity he had supposedly been engaged in watching the previous night. Briefly his mind went over what he had actually been doing, and the appreciative hum that came out, lewd and horny, wasn’t at all faked. What? Steve was hot. And Tony had been very busy being fucked out of his brain. He could barely stop himself from moaning at the memory.

But then Ziva had started dropping hints about the fact that she had had McGee come over for dinner the previous night. And that Palmer had been there, too. The little Autopsy Gremlin was adorkable, and while McGee was starting to hold his own better now, someone like Ziva would chew them both up and spit them out without even breaking a sweat. Why had she cooked them dinner? Tony didn’t understand it. And then suddenly there were people shooting at them – yup, they had definitely found the _suspicious_ people over here – and they took cover in the open container, which, on hindsight, might not have been the smartest thing to do, although it did keep them alive albeit trapped, since they’d been bolted in.

And then the whole ordeal of being trapped in the container. Tony felt like he’d had to do everything, including try to keep the little Mossad ninja calm in the box. He’d been the one to figure out that the container was smaller on the inside (the opposite of a TARDIS, which he knew Steve would roll his eyes about), and they’d discovered that what was hidden wasn’t illegal firearms, like they had thought, but instead US Dollars. Cash money. And he’d been the one to show Ziva how to tell that the cash was, in fact, counterfeit. And the woman still couldn’t see past his masks. She had totally made up her mind about who he was based on whatever stupid file that Mossad had on him – don’t get him wrong, he was pleased that Mossad didn’t know jack squat about him – and the clown mask that he’d kept up in front of her. But that day, in the container, all Ziva had done was question him, doubt him, panic about being locked in a box, and then tried to kill them both by shooting into the steel container and the bullet ricocheting crazily. Sure, she’d then thrown herself on top of him to try to shield him from the bullet that she had let loose in their little metal box, but still. It was the principle of it. And then she kept lying on him, even though he clearly asked her to get off him. Several times. It was all part of that thing that she did – trying to get him to think that she was attracted to him. And even though he kept propositioning her and flirting with her, yet they went nowhere. She had to have been attempting to test his resolve, lying on him for so long. But of course, the things that Mossad and Ziva didn’t know about him could fill a book. As if he would be swayed by someone like her. Tony remembered only too well how girls who’d called him names started following him around like puppies after he’d gotten his growth spurt. Anthony, at fifteen, had already known how to spot the shallow ones and the ones with ulterior motives, thank you very much. He was much older and much more experienced than his fifteen year old self now and the chances of him falling for Ziva’s feminine wiles was absolutely zero.

Tony was just done with her by the time that she’d shot down all his ideas and kept being so fucking sarcastic. And she didn’t seem to have the same faith that Gibbs would come for them. Tony had been in enough tight spots to know that Gibbs would know when he was in trouble and needed backup, so he wanted to keep trying to get cell service and signal to people that they were there. Ziva’s idea of dropping money out the air vents was smart when the container was placed on a truck and moved out. Breadcrumbs – get it? Bread? Being another word for money? Yeah. He kept that joke to himself and wished like all get out that he’d worn a thicker jacket and hadn’t forgotten his goddamn gloves.

He’d been distracted when he left home that morning, and distracted in a very good way. It was always that way when Steve was home, and he hadn’t been paying attention to whether he had his gloves or his keys or if his shoes had even been laced on right. And since Steve liked it when he wasn’t dressed to the nines, he was actually more casually dressed that day, slacks and the sheepskin lined jacket that Steve had brought him from Australia or someplace – Tony had learned not to ask questions about where Steve had been, given that the man was a Navy SEAL – instead of a designer suit and tie, and a Burberry coat. He did wish he’d remembered his gloves though, and maybe his scarf too, although the sheepskin lining did make a difference. Steve was so going to yell at him for this escapade, getting locked in a container with a trainer killer whose loyalties were questionable, and with terrorists after them both? Yeah. Steve was definitely not going to let this lie. And of course this would happen during the surprise trip home that Steve had managed. Tony was in so much trouble. And if there was anything left of him after Steve got through with him, he would have to face Gibbs’ wrath for breaking Rule 3 and Rule 15 and Gibbs did not like anyone breaking his goddamn rules. Oh yeah. Tony was definitely in hot water. If he got out of this little pickle alive. He pushed that thought out of his mind. Of course he was going to get out of this alive. For one thing, Steve would kill him if he died.

And then came the confrontation with the counterfeiters, in which they were hopelessly outgunned. Ziva did shoot someone in the foot and that was nice, but then they’d been duped by the port manager claiming to have stopped how many people with automatic weapons? Even though his gut had been screaming to be cautious, they had really been trapped in that container too long and they were both only too happy to jump out. And besides, by this time Tony had been winged and his arm was throbbing. But when Gibbs saved the day, Tony couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. He really didn’t want for anyone to have to call Steve to let him know that Tony didn’t make it. Gibbs had been the one to make the call to Steve after they’d taken down the plague-sending woman. Tony had mostly been unconscious at the time. And even though John had been there for him, Steve couldn’t come to him and even though he was completely recovered now, Steve had been sending him worried messages for all these months. Steve was really on high alert around him, fussing at every little cough he had. And of course, this was his first time back in Steve’s presence and the man had been so worried and treating him so gingerly, and with so much care. This getting shot thing was another thing Steve was going to yell at him about and then smother him with care. And while he wasn’t looking forward to it, Tony was incredibly happy that he was actually alive to be yelled at.

And then later, back at the Navy Yard, when Abby hugged him in the bullpen, he didn’t have to fake the wince and the pained groan that came out of him. His arm was tightly bound in a sling and even though McGee was scoffing about it, because Ziva had said he’d scratched it even though the EMTs had treated him for a gunshot wound, Tony tried not to take it personally. It was his fault, after all, for always playing up his little paper cuts. But it did hurt him that McGee, who had been there before Ziva, when Kate was there, when he had been struggling to breathe, McGee who had seen him come back to work even though he’d really still been bad off, McGee had conveniently forgotten that Tony had been the one to save both him and Kate from that car bomb even though he hadn’t been even close to being 100% healthy at the time. But whatever. He didn’t want to hold it against the kid.

And then there they were, all rubbing it into him about the amazing food that Ziva had cooked for them, which he had missed out on. That she had made for a team dinner to which he had not been invited.

Tony sighed and tried not to get upset. He needed to think this over, maybe talk it over with Steve, to understand what the hell was going on with his team. Especially when Gibbs started participating in the game of ‘Take DiNozzo down a peg because we excluded him from Ziva’s special team dinner’ thing. He just wanted to go home and skip Ziva’s supposed make up dinner for him that she wanted to make for him.

But then the elevator dinged, and there he was, sexy as ever, dressed in a tight black t-shirt, a leather jacket, and black jeans, scowling at Tony when he spotted the sling.

“Anthony?” Steve growled.

Tony gave him a guilty grin and turned to give Gibbs a hurt look. Gibbs had not only rubbed it in his face that he hadn’t been invited to the fucking team party, but he’d also called Steve to come pick him up? Tony had just been sending texts to Steve to tell him that he’d been stuck in a windowless room with no cell service on a case. Technically not a lie.

“Oh, hi, Steve,” Tony’s grin turned even guiltier when Steve took in his appearance, seeing the disheveled hair, the sling, the exhaustion in his eyes. He saw Steve’s nose twitch minutely and knew that his boyfriend had totally picked up on the fumes of fire as well as gunpowder.

“Lieutenant McGarrett,” Gibbs stuck out his hand and Steve took it, both men shaking hands, all manly and masculine, and so full of testosterone that Tony wanted to scream like a little girl and throw flowers at them for no reason other than he was probably exhausted and trying not to get in trouble for the things that he knew he was going to get in trouble for. And would rather get in trouble for something stupid like making fun of Steve and Gibbs’ combined testosterone level being more than Abby and McGee’s IQs put together than for not asking Steve to come pick him up after the day he’d had, and the fact that he’d gotten injured in a gun battle where he and his dubious partner had been woefully outgunned and outmanned.

“Gunny,” Steve greeted him. “I appreciate you calling me.”

“Figured DiNozzo would try to drive himself home or something stupid like that.”

Steve gave him a disappointed look, and Tony opened his eyes wide with feigned innocence.

“And who might you be?” Abby perked up, taking in the pecs and the arms and muscles, and the chiseled jaw and the fucking hotness that was Steve McGarrett.

“Steve,” Steve introduced himself with a charming smile. “Old friend of Tony’s here. You must be Abby. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Abby blushed and tittered. Tony saw Gibbs give him a subtle eye roll and he shrugged. He was used to people flirting with Steve, and Steve flirting right back, and Steve was used to people flirting with Tony and vice versa. It was just how things were and meant nothing to them.

“Are you one of Tony’s infamous ‘frat buddies’?” Ziva asked him.

“I’m an old friend of Tony’s,” Steve stated again as he moved around the women to stand in front of Tony. He cupped Tony’s face and turned in left and right, inspecting him closely. “Well, at least nobody punched you in the face today. What’s with the sling, Tony?”

“He cut his arm on a box,” McGee supplied. “Ziva said so.”

“Is your name Tony?” Steve glared at McGee, and the man shook his head, silent now. “Then I’m going to ask the question again. Anthony, what happened to your arm?”

“Just got shot a little bit,” Tony deflected. “It’s part of the job. Alright. Let’s go now, yeah?” Tony tried to scoot around Steve to grab his gun and badge.

“Anthony…”

Tony sighed and looked at his feet. Did the rest of the team have to be here for this? Steve put his finger under Tony’s chin and gently lifted, making Tony look up and face him.

“I was in a firefight today and my arm was grazed by a bullet,” Tony told him.

“You said he cut himself on a box,” Gibbs turned to Ziva, eyes growing dark.

“Well, it didn’t seem as if…”

“What did the EMTs say?” Gibbs cut her off. “I asked you to wait with him while he was being treated.”

“I… do not know,” Ziva shrugged. “I went to look at the currency being taken into evidence with McGee.”

“Even though I _specifically_ told you to wait with DiNozzo?” Gibbs’ voice was soft, which was always a warning sign. He went soft before he started yelling. “I gave you a direct order, David.”

“He was obviously fine!” Ziva objected.

“ _Was_ he? And how would _you_ know if you didn’t wait with him while he was being treated?” Gibbs growled.

Tony rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Boss.”

“Like hell you are. One of my guys gets shot and I’m not informed?” Gibbs turned to him. “I expect this kind of shenanigan from you, DiNozzo. When it comes to yourself, at least. Which is why I ordered David to stay with you so I can be fully informed of what the EMTs said.”

Tony sighed. Steve’s hazel eyes were filled with worry and disappointment and anger, and luckily for him, Gibbs was angrier at Ziva than him.

“So. Give me the scrips that I’m sure you haven’t filled,” Steve held out his hand and Tony reluctantly dug out the antibiotics and painkiller prescriptions that he’d been given. “How badly were you shot?”

“Through and through,” Tony muttered. “Didn’t hit bone or artery. Very lucky. Just some stitches. Usual aftercare.”

Steve sighed. “OK,” he nodded. “Thanks for calling me,” he turned to Gibbs.

“Figured he would try to hide as much as he could from you,” Gibbs rolled his eyes and grinned at Steve. He turned back to Ziva. “David, we will need to have a discussion about obeying orders,” he said grimly.

Ziva nodded mutinously.

“Maybe Ziva can cook you both dinner to make it up to you!” Abby piped up. “She had all of us over for a team dinner last night and she is a really great cook!”

“Team dinner? Last night?” Steve gave Tony a look, and Tony shrugged and made a face. “We weren’t doing anything special last night. How come you decided not to go, Anthony? I would’ve been fine on my own if you had a team dinner to go to.”

“I wasn’t exactly invited?” Tony muttered. “Found out about it this morning.”

“So you had a ‘team dinner’ where Tony was not even invited?” Steve turned and looked at Gibbs again, his voice dripping with disappointment. “Not sure what kind of ship you’re running here, Gunny.”

Gibbs turned and gave Ziva a fierce glare.

“Me neither,” Tony added, his lips twisted in anger. “But I don’t want to talk about it right now. And I definitely don’t want to spend any more of your leave in here, Steve.”

“Email me your report when you can,” Gibbs told Tony. “How long are you here for, Lieutenant?”

“I’m here the rest of the week before I ship out again,” Steve said.

“Take the rest of the week,” Gibbs told Tony. “Not much going to be happening here other than a review of the Code of Conduct, the understanding of chain of command and obeying orders, and a review of Rule 15. So you won’t be excluded from anything exciting.” He glared at Ziva. “You _really_ chose not to invite DiNozzo and then let us stand around rubbing it in to him what he missed, knowing that you excluded him on purpose?”

Ziva shrugged, her lips pursed.

Gibbs snorted. “Rule 15,” he growled. “You’re either working together as a team, or you get the fuck off my team.”

Ziva nodded, blushing at being reprimanded in public. Abby was staring at her, tears in her eyes. She pulled Tony into another gasp inducing hug, and let him go with apologies. “I’m sorry we went to a team dinner without you!” she exclaimed. “I asked Ziva where you were and she said you were busy.”

“It’s fine, Abs. I know you didn’t mean it,” Tony reassured her, kissing her temple. “But I really do want to go home now, if you don’t mind. I snuck a copy of _Kuch Kuch Hota Hai_ and after today, I really want to watch it.”

“C’mon, Tony. Let’s go,” Steve shook Gibbs’ hand again – another super strong, manly man handshake –, nodded to everyone else, gave Ziva a death glare, and took Tony’s backpack from him as they walked to the elevator together.

“Who was that?” Tony heard McGee ask as they walked away.

“He said it before. He’s DiNozzo’s friend,” Gibbs muttered.

“How come you know him, Bossman?” Abby asked.

Tony missed the rest of that conversation when Steve ushered him into the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also a quick note: part of jesco's prompt included her wish not to see undue character bashing. And I don't usually like to bash characters anyway, so keep that in mind. :)
> 
> Final chapter tomorrow!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! And I feel I need to elaborate more on my short note re: jesco's wish for no undue character bashing. I summarized that into far too few words with absolutely none of the nuances that jesco's email contained. So let me try to paraphrase it again:  
> The request was not to bash the characters for the sake of character bashing. Characters should not be OOC, if at all possible. So for instance, when Ziva and/or McGee treat Tony terribly in canon and there are repercussions for that, then that's fine. But to just go all out bashing characters (Gibbs included) for no reason other than to bash them and to make them suddenly crazy evil and out of character, that's what jesco would like not to see.
> 
> And for the record, I think jesco and I have very very similar opinions about this. I think I can think of one fic that I've written where I believe I bashed Gibbs a lot. The others, I may not have treated Gibbs kindly, but (hopefully) I think I've built that from how Gibbs is in canon and went on from there. Same for Ziva, McGee and Abby. I think I've tried to not stretch their crazy too far from canon.
> 
> How I define 'bashing' is to take the character and twist it such that they appear out of character in their negative tendencies.
> 
> LOL I don't know if that made it better or worse. :D But I tried...

[](https://i.imgur.com/eQnwcSo.png)

Tony wanted so much to lean into Steve as they walked to Steve’s rental car. Wanted to tuck himself into Steve’s body and take the comfort from him actually physically being there. But they maintained their usual in public stance, shoulders occasionally brushing as they walked side by side, no hint of anything other than friendship between them. Steve had his backpack and he opened the back door and threw it on to the back seat before he opened the passenger door and helped Tony into his rental car. This time his hands lingered on Tony’s back and the elbow not in a sling, his fingers brushing lightly down Tony’s thigh. He leaned down and helped Tony buckle his seat belt, taking the opportunity to brush his fingers through Tony’s hair.

“You good?” he asked softly.

Tony nodded, breathing a small but heartfelt sigh. It was a relief to be in Steve’s car and hidden from the security cameras.

Steve nodded, caressed Tony’s face and his bottom lip gently before he closed the door and went around the front, sliding into the driver’s seat. Tony was silent on the drive back, although he laced his fingers over Steve’s when the SEAL placed it on his knee. It was one of the things about Steve. Steve had known him before he became the brash, super confident, loud and outgoing Tony. Steve had known him when he was the quiet, shy, scared little boy and sometimes when Steve was around, he felt secure enough to just be that again. He didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with chatter, or engage in his usual constant movements. Didn’t need to drum out rhythms that he only heard in his head, didn’t need to touch everything and feel everything with his fingers, didn’t need to shoot his mouth. He could sit and just be. Steve’s presence always calmed him.

Tony leaned his head against the window, feeling the day catch up with him, and not too long into the drive, Steve turned his head to ask him a question and saw that he’d fallen asleep. The dark haired man sighed, rubbing gentle circles on Tony’s good hand, fingers still interlaced with his. Tony slept through the drive, including the stop where Steve filled Tony’s prescriptions, and Steve took care to drive carefully and not with his usual breakneck speed and vague adherence to traffic laws. He woke Tony up when they got back home, and when Tony wobbled a little, he put his arm around the man, gently supporting him until they got back to their apartment.

Tony was so out of it that he obediently took his medication and ate a little when Steve coaxed him into eating, and Steve helped him prepare for bed. By then, he was completely loopy on the pain meds, and Steve laughed at him, and petted him until he fell asleep. It was a blurry night, but Tony didn’t think it was so bad. Nothing was, when Steve was home.

The next morning, Tony opened his eyes to bright sunshine. Squinting, he moaned in pain when he jolted his arm, still in the sling, as he tried to sit up.

“Easy there,” Steve was helping him sit up before his sleep and drug addled brain could even figure it. “Good morning, baby.” Steve saw the confused look on Tony’s face. “Did you forget I was home?”

Tony’s brain cleared up and he realized that it wasn’t a dream and that Steve really was there, and he broke into a smile. “Thought I was dreaming for a minute,” he pulled Steve until he came down on his knees on the bed, turning his face up for a kiss before he snuggled into Steve’s body and stayed that way for long moments, one arm around Steve. The SEAL had both arms around his boyfriend, leaning his cheek down on the top of Tony’s head, breathing in his scent.

“You still smell like smoke,” he murmured into Tony’s hair.

“Yeah. We tried burning counterfeit money to keep warm. It got a little out of hand,” Tony’s voice was muffled, his face buried in Steve’s chest. “Not my best plan, I’ll admit.”

Steve snorted. “I’m just going to go with, ‘OK’ as a response to that one.”

Tony chuckled. Finally they pulled apart, and Tony ran a hand through his mussed hair. “I do smell,” he made a face. “Gonna hit the shower.”

“I’ll clean and rewrap your arm afterwards.”

After he showered, he let Steve tend to his arm and then talked him into going out to brunch with him. He was feeling pretty good, now that he’d showered. The wound wasn’t really that big a deal, and he put the pain out of his mind, wanting instead to focus on the fact that Steve was home. And then Steve suggested that since Tony had the rest of the week off, that they should go somewhere. So they ended up at a romantic bed and breakfast in Chincoteague a few hours later. Given that it was the off-season, they had the place practically to themselves. With Tony’s arm in a sling, they spent a lot of time doing not too strenuous things, walking aimlessly on the beach, just happy to be together. They also had a lot of brain melting sex, even though Tony had to beg Steve for some action at first. Steve had been concerned about Tony’s injury and he was still carrying around anxiety for Tony’s health given how sick he’d been with the plague, and how close they’d come to losing him to it, that Tony had to constantly reassure Steve that he really was fine.

“Besides, what better way than to celebrate the fact that we’re both still alive, still whole, still well regardless of the challenges that we’ve had in the past than to have an obscene amount of life affirming sex?” Tony asked as he slid his good hand into Steve’s pants, palming his dick.

“Life affirming sex, huh?” Steve asked.

“An _obscene_ amount of it,” Tony nodded, green eyes wide and solemn.

Steve had to chuckle at that, although he broke off to moan when Tony thumbed his slit.

“Yup. We should totally fuck like bunnies. To reassure ourselves that we’re still here. We’re still alive. Relatively young. With healthy sex drives.”

Steve laughed. “And what about your arm?”

“It doesn’t even hurt anymore! I’m only wearing this sling because you’re making me do it,” Tony pouted. “C’mon. Don’t you want to remind me what I have to live for?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “And your lungs?”

“My lungs are _fine_ , Steve! I’ve built back up to running five miles a day again. And I need to keep doing it if I don’t want complications with the lungs later in life. Pitt said so. I’m supposed to be exercising! You know what’s really good exercise? Sex. Just think of all the endorphins that will flood our bodies with all the orgasms that we could be experiencing together!”

Steve pursed his lips. He was slowly being convinced. Well his brain was slowly being convinced, but Tony had taken his hand off Steve’s dick and was tugging off his clothes during this discussion, so Steve’s dick was totally on board the life affirming sex train. Totally.

“And if you’re so concerned about my health, you can do all the work. I’ll just lie there and think of England,” Tony snarked.

Steve cuffed the back of Tony’s head before he pulled him in for a kiss which degenerated into a tongue-sucking, tonsil exploring, filthy kiss which left them both aroused and hard. Tony made that noise in his chest that Steve loved, that strangled moan mixed with the almost surprised gasp when he slid a thigh in between Tony’s legs and Tony began grinding his erection on it and then Steve was on board the life affirming sex train, at full speed and whistles blowing, woo woo.

They took breaks from sex for sleep, food and long walks on the beach. But it was an idyllic few days, far away from everything and everyone that they knew, where they felt comfortable being affectionate with each other in public, holding hands and kissing in plain sight of everyone.

They drove home the day before Steve was scheduled to ship out, making it back to the apartment before it got too late in the afternoon.

“I’ll run out to get some groceries and you can make me dinner tonight,” Steve was saying as they walked off the elevator.

“Oh, so I’m cooking tonight, am I?” Tony shook his head. “I thought I was supposed to take it easy what with my arm being all shot and whatnot.”

“You told me your arm was all better!”

“That was in completely different circumstances!” Tony had been on his hands and knees, begging Steve to fuck him in that position, insisting that his arm was completely better and he could take being fucked in that position. His arm wouldn’t give out. And when it did give out later, it wasn’t because of the bullet wound but because of the excruciatingly intense orgasm that thundered through his body while Steve continued pounding into him.

“Please? It’s been so long…” Steve pouted. “Please, Anthony? Come on. I’ll make it worth…”

Steve stopped talking and both men wiped the smiles off their faces when they saw Ziva standing outside Tony’s door, lock picks still in her hand. She stared at them, and Tony saw her noting that they were both windswept and sun-kissed from their time at the beach, despite it being only January.

“I should’ve expected this, I guess,” Tony said softly. “What do you want, Ziva?”

“Are you not inviting me in?” the dark eyed woman asked coyly.

“No, actually, I’m not,” Tony frowned at her. “What do you want?” he asked again. “I’m on vacation. I’ll be back at work on Monday.”

Ziva pouted. “I wish to speak with you tonight.”

“Go on, then,” Tony urged her. “I’m listening.”

Ziva flicked her eyes, glancing at Steve.

“Don’t mind me,” Steve said, leaning against the wall and casually crossing his arms. “I’d like to hear this. You know, from the ‘team player’. I’m pretty sure I’d rather not leave my friend alone with you right now.”

“Steve,” Tony sighed, but he knew that Steve wasn’t going to step away from him. He gave Ziva another look. “Say what you want to say in front of Steve or wait till Monday.”

Ziva pouted some more. “Tony, we are teammates…”

“Convenient of you to remember that now, huh?” Steve interjected. “Didn’t you have a lovely team dinner without him? And then rub it in, because you know he’s not going to make an issue of it, and not tell people that you didn’t even invite him?”

“Perhaps what I have to say to my teammate is classified and not for your ears,” Ziva snapped at him.

“Perhaps my clearance level is higher than Tony’s so whatever it is you want to tell him that’s classified, I can hear it, too,” Steve retorted.

“Just say what you have to say now or get lost, Zee-vah,” Tony arched an eyebrow at her.

“I wished to tell you that I am sorry for not inviting you to dinner,” Ziva said, sounding as if every word made her want to throw up.

“ _That_ was heartfelt and sincere,” Steve snarked. “Don’t you think that was heartfelt and sincere, Anthony? Didn’t sound at all as if she couldn’t possibly mean even one word of it.”

Tony rolled his eyes and his lips curved up in a smile but he didn’t acknowledge Steve’s words. “OK. You’ve apologized. Very good. Run along now,” he told Ziva. “I’ll see you Monday.”

Steve took his keys out and fitted it in the door.

“Your friend has keys to your apartment?” Ziva gasped.

“Why are you still here?” Steve asked her.

Ziva stared at Tony for a long moment, scrutinizing his face – currently a blank mask – before she blew out a breath in frustration and stomped away. They waited until she was on the elevator and gone before Steve opened the door and threw their bags in and stood just outside the doorway, blocking Tony.

“Why do I feel like we should check the place for bugs?” Steve whispered.

“Because you’re a clever, clever man?” Tony whispered back.

“Isn’t there a grocery store near Gunny’s house?”

Tony nodded.

“You can cook dinner for him, too.”

“On your last night here?” Tony whined. “You’re supposed to be all mine tonight!”

“You need to talk to the man. I’ll drop you off there and go get the groceries. You can decide whether we eat there or come back here.”

Tony sighed and rubbed his face but nodded. Steve was right. He needed to do this. And if he did this while Steve was home, then whatever the outcome, Steve would take care of him. Steve always took care of him. Steve had that stupid hero complex that meant that he needed to take care of people and Tony had always loved that about him. “Fine,” he muttered.

Steve locked the front door, grabbed his arm and steered him back towards the elevator. When they were idling in Gibbs’ driveway, Steve took Tony’s hand and leaned in to kiss him tenderly. “I love you,” he whispered.

“Love you too,” Tony whispered back.

“I know you always think that you’re the one in the wrong, but you’re not in the wrong here. You told me yourself the suspicions that you have, and I’m telling you, I don’t think they’re unwarranted,” Steve was completely serious now.

Tony nodded.

“And if the Gunny over there doesn’t want to hear it from you, then you need to decide what to do next.”

Tony nodded miserably.

“But whatever happens, Anthony, I’m proud of you. For being the only one keeping their head and not just allowing yourself to be swept along with everything. In the kind of position that you found yourself in,” Steve cupped Tony’s face gently, waiting until Tony’s green eyes met his. He smiled. “I’m always proud of you. And I’ll back you up, whatever you choose to do. I’ll always have your back.”

“I know,” Tony whispered.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I think I have a hankering for sushi. Maybe I’ll pick up some fish.”

“You can’t go to a Costco and get sushi grade ahi here, OK? You remember that little tidbit, right? And the fact that you’ve hated every single sushi place we’ve been to _ever_ that’s not in Hawaii tells me that there is no way you’re going to be happy with any fish from the grocery store!” Tony hissed.

Steve laughed and Tony realized that he had only been yanking his chain. And getting him out of the worried funk that he’d been in about talking to Gibbs.

“You’re such a shithead,” Tony grumbled.

“You want me to just stay here and wait for you?”

Tony shook his head. “I need to do this alone. Go hunt and gather ingredients for dinner.”

Steve kissed him again and watched as Tony stepped out of the car and walked right into Gibbs’ house before he backed out of the driveway and zoomed away.

\--------------------------------

Tony stopped in the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of beer out of the fridge before he meandered down to the basement, not in any particular hurry to get down there. Gibbs grunted at him, which served as a greeting, and accepted the beer with a nod of thanks. Tony was very familiar with the non-verbal Gibbs-speak.

“Thought you’d be here before this,” Gibbs said when Tony sat himself down on the basement step.

“Steve needed the beach. We went to Chincoteague.”

“Nice this time of year?”

“Quiet. Real nice. I bet it’s crazy there in the summer, though.”

Gibbs nodded, sipping the beer before he picked up his sander and started working on the boat again. “Where’s the Lieutenant?”

“Groceries. I’m cooking tonight.”

“Arm OK?”

“It’s fine.”

Gibbs nodded.

“So what _else_ did I miss while I was out this week?” Tony finally asked, and he was surprised to hear the bitterness in his tone.

Gibbs sighed. “Not much. I pulled the team off the roster.”

Tony nodded.

“I thought she invited you but you said no because your Lieutenant was in town.”

Tony shrugged. “I probably would’ve said no, if she’d bothered to ask.”

Gibbs pursed his lips. “It’s more than that though?”

Tony sighed and nodded. “Are you ready to actually hear what I’m saying now?” he asked softly.

Gibbs stopped his movements and turned to the younger man. He stared at Tony who stared right back, not backing down. Gibbs grunted and nodded.

“I just want to know why it was so easy for you to replace Kate with Kate’s killer’s sister.”

“Is that what you’ve been thinking?”

Tony nodded. “One day we’re protecting Kate’s desk like it’s a shrine, the next Kate’s killer’s sister is getting rid of her stuff. And you don’t even throw her off the team like you’ve thrown a ton of other, better trained and better suited people off the team.”

Gibbs gave him the death glare. “Not your place to question who gets on my team.”

“Isn’t it? I questioned Blackadder’s presence and you ignored me, and look where that got us.”

“That all?”

“If I’m not the one questioning you on the decisions that are questionable, then who else is left to ask you these things?” Tony said heatedly. “I thought that was one of the things that I brought to the table. That I don’t just obey you without question. That I use the fucking brains in my head and try to support you the best that I can. And if that means asking you things that make you angry and uncomfortable, and making you listen to things that you might not like but might be crucial information, then that’s what I have to do.”

Gibbs sighed and rubbed his face. “Ziva’s loyal,” he asserted.

“Is she? Why? Because she killed Ari?”

Gibbs’ eyes widened and his nostrils flared. Tony recognized the look. Gibbs was surprised.

“What? I can still see things just from crime scene photos, you know,” Tony growled. “You didn’t pull the trigger. Wrong angle. Someone else did, and you’re concealing that information. Then Ziva’s on our team and you don’t pitch a hissy. I can put two and two together.”

Gibbs’ eyes flashed at that.

“Oh, like you’re not known for pitching fits,” Tony grumbled.

“She saved my life.”

“No, Gibbs. She earned your trust by saving your life,” Tony corrected him. “She’s loyal, Boss. The question is, to who? You?”

“She shot her brother to save me.”

“She let her brother kill Kate first,” Tony snapped. “You forget that part? Kate’s brains splattering on my fucking face? Because I gotta tell you, I see that every night still. Especially since her killer’s sister sits right across from me every fucking day now!”

“Sins of the father, DiNozzo? You ever hear of that? She’s not responsible for her brother’s actions.”

“She was her brother’s _handler_. And they’re half siblings.”

“Spell it out for me, DiNozzo, because whatever it is you’re seeing, I’m not seeing it. What’s your problem with her?”

Tony took in a deep breath. He was angry and Gibbs was angry, and he needed to calm down and lay out his thoughts before this conversation got away from him.

“Look, we all know that Ari was batshit crazy. I really doubt he was faking that. He was off the rails, consumed with anger that his father had sacrificed his mother and made him a pawn,” Tony began again.

Gibbs nodded.

“And the fact that Ari, this poor kid, was raised to betray his mother’s people? What the hell kind of life is that for a kid?” Tony scrubbed his face, hating that he felt pity and understanding for the man who’d ended Kate’s life. “So if _we_ know this from our limited interactions with him, then there’s no way _Ziva_ would have missed it. Or anyone else from Mossad. So, what if Eli David decided he needed to get Ari off the board. His pawn is getting unstable. But first he assigns him one last task. Make a hole on our team. Make a hole on the MCRT.” Tony flicked his eyes up and saw that Gibbs’ expression had darkened but he was still listening.

“Eli does his research and realizes that your kryptonite is people of the female persuasion. Redheads, you fuck and marry and divorce. Young enough, and they’re substitutes for Kelly,” Tony hated saying it but he kept his eyes on Gibbs, meeting his angry gaze calmly. “Everyone can see how you treat Abby. So based on this, killing me or McGee wouldn’t bring the kind of bang for their buck. So he sets him to kill Kate, the only female on our team. And it’s got to be in front of you, for the best effect.”

Gibbs began growling.

“Then after they take Kate out and have made a hole in the MCRT, it’s time to insert their operative. And what better person than the one who saved your life, who is, conveniently enough, also of the female persuasion and someone young enough to bring out your paternal instincts.”

“Are you out of your mind, DiNozzo?” Gibbs snarled.

“Am I?” Tony asked him, green eyes solemn. “Ziva David is Mossad. She’s a highly trained assassin, Gibbs. Wetworks, spy stuff. Yeah, I know you’ve had your share of this kind of work, and I’ve done my time at long term undercover shit too. But Gibbs, _all_ Ziva knows is to carry out her father’s orders. She’s been doing this her entire life. Even if it means killing her own brother. No matter how much she loved Ari, she loves her father more. Besides, he’s only her _half_ brother. Someone whose very existence probably disrupted her childhood at times. I can’t imagine her mother was pleased about having a secret illegitimate stepson.”

Gibbs stopped growling and stared at Tony.

“We’re not a big player in the alphabet soup,” Tony continued. “We might be the MCRT but we’re NCIS MCRT. We handle murders and kidnappings. Only sometimes are we involved in crimes involving terrorism or anything that Mossad would be interested in. Our scope is _narrow_. But we have the same access to information as any other Federal Agency. We have access to classified information. And now, with their operative on our team with the same access that we have, Mossad does, too.”

Gibbs stared at Tony without blinking for a few moments. “You’ve really thought this through,” he said hoarsely.

“I’ve tried to talk to you about it before,” Tony shrugged. “But you didn’t want to hear it.”

“That’s why you’ve been especially annoyingly… _you_ to Ziva,” Gibbs growled. “You don’t want them to catch on that you’re not what they think you are.”

“Given what I just said, would _you?_ ”

Gibbs sighed.

“Ziva was just at my apartment with lock picks in her hand,” Tony said grimly. “Lock picks, Boss. _My apartment_. I don’t _ever_ invite anyone but you there.”

Gibbs sighed again.

“Now I know I said Steve went to get groceries and no doubt he’ll accomplish that, too. But I’m also pretty sure he’s sweeping our home for bugs,” Tony gritted out. “He had that look in his eye when he hustled us both out of there without even letting me use the bathroom first.”

“What’s your Lieutenant think of all this?” Gibbs asked, and Tony couldn’t believe the warm feeling in his heart whenever Gibbs called Steve _his_ Lieutenant.

“He didn’t make me break out the tin foil hats,” Tony grinned before he sobered up. “He thinks it’s plausible. He wants to look into this, but I told him we needed to deal with this in house first.”

Gibbs nodded. They stared at each other in silence. “How do you want to proceed?” Gibbs finally asked. “I’m not saying I am completely on board, but... fuck, as much as I want to do it, I can’t dismiss this out of hand.”

“We can’t go to Shepard,” Tony said quietly.

Gibbs shook his head.

“And not just because she’s your ex,” Tony nodded.

Gibbs sighed. “It’s hinky that Jenny put Ziva on our team just like that,” he finally said. “Even I can see that. You got anything concrete on Ziva yet?”

Tony shook his head. “I was going to ask Steve to pull some strings and find me something I can install on her computer and phone. Figure out what she’s doing with classified information that she has access to now.”

Gibbs sighed. “You do that.”

“Also, I’m worried that she’ll convince the Probie to commit treason.”

“Fuck,” Gibbs growled.

“I plan to continue to act like an asshole, lull her into thinking I’m an idiot, and keep watching her,” Tony nodded. “Maybe you can reign McGee in while we’re doing this.”

Gibbs nodded. “She might be on to you. Dividing the team like this. Mossad might think they know you, but maybe she’s not so sure they’re right.”

“Are you telling me my general awesomeness shines through even when I’m acting like an idiot?” Tony grinned.

“You get one free pass for a head slap tonight, DiNozzo. That was it,” Gibbs grinned back.

“I can’t figure her out though.”

Gibbs raised his eyebrows.

“I mean, one minute she’s trying to get in my pants, and the next she looks at me like I’m dog poop on the bottom of her shoe.”

Gibbs snorted at that.

“She’s trying to get to me. Trying to divide you all up against me. But to what purpose?”

“To turn you?”

Tony snorted. “Surely my file can’t hide that I’d die for you, Boss.”

Gibbs hummed. “They must know that you’re a good investigator. Despite your masks.”

Tony shrugged.

“They need to keep you off balance? Maybe erode your loyalty to me?” Gibbs speculated.

“Maybe it’s more like they’re trying to make you forget what’s behind the frat boy?” Tony murmured.

Gibbs gave him a silent nod, nostrils flaring again. That had hit home. Tony knew that Gibbs was thinking about how easily he’d fallen into teasing Tony about not being at a team dinner, without checking to see if Tony had even been invited. Enough things like that, and with Tony acting like an irresponsible airhead frat boy all the time, Gibbs might forget why he’d hired Tony in the first place.

Tony pursed his lips. “I don’t know if Ziva is completely on board with that plan, whatever their end game might be. Maybe that’s why she’s blowing hot and cold.”

“Maybe we can turn that to our advantage.”

Tony gave Gibbs a questioning look.

“You’re good looking. Smart. Quick thinking. Silver tongued. Maybe _you_ can turn _her_ ,” Gibbs scrutinized him critically.

“She’s Eli David’s _daughter!_ ” Tony gasped.

“If you’re right, then her father ordered her to kill her own brother,” Gibbs said grimly. “She can’t fake the kind of anguish that she felt after that happened. I was there. I saw her face after she killed him. She did love him, whatever else was going on. She has to be starting to question her father by now.”

Tony thought for a moment. “Might work better if you give her a better father figure,” he mused.

Gibbs sighed. “I can do that.”

Tony nodded.

“I still think you could hook her with some of that little boy charm and vulnerability you do so well when you need to,” Gibbs told him. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone resist that.”

Tony grinned. “Aww, Boss! Are you telling me that my ‘little boy charm and vulnerability’ works on you, too? And wait, did you just call me _silver tongued_ a minute ago??”

This time Tony wasn’t spared the head slap.

Gibbs went back to working on the boat and Tony, heart lifting, sat and finished his beer. They both looked up when they heard a car turn into Gibbs driveway.

“Steve’s here,” Tony’s smile was huge.

“You can both stay for dinner if you like.”

Tony sighed. “It’s his last night home,” he said softly, face falling.

Gibbs nodded. “Go on then. Be with your Lieutenant. I’ll be here tomorrow if you need company.”

“I’ll be here tomorrow night,” Tony smiled as he stood. “Thanks, Boss.”

Gibbs quirked a smile at him.

Tony ascended the stairs and got into the car with Steve.

“How’d it go?” Steve asked.

Tony nodded. “Much better than I’d expected it to.”

“Good. You guys have a plan?”

Tony nodded again. “I think so. We need more evidence right now.”

Steve sighed. “I so hate it that you’re on a team with people you can’t trust,” he huffed.

“Just the one untrustworthy teammate, Steve. And Gibbs is listening to me again. Hopefully I’ll be able to keep him from thinking of Ziva as his daughter long enough for us to figure out what Mossad’s trying to do here.”

“OK. But the minute you have doubts about your support on the ground, you get out of there and give me the SOS. I have a backup plan for you.”

“It’s not time to call in the air strike, Steve.”

“But when it is, if it comes to that…”

“I’ll call you.”

“Good.”

“I will need some help from you – if you could get me software I can put on her machine and phone so we can figure out what she’s doing with the information that she’s accessing? Or even what information she is accessing?”

“Done.”

Tony smiled his thanks. “How many bugs did you find at home, anyway?”

“Three,” Steve spat out. “You better keep sweeping after I leave, just in case. Sweep Gibbs’ place every so often, too.”

Tony nodded. Steve leaned over and kissed Tony, cupping his face. “Let’s go home, baby. You’re making me dinner.”

They spent their last night together making love and savoring every moment they had together, and the next day, after Steve shipped out, Tony ended up at Gibbs’, drinking bourbon and eating cowboy steaks. Lonely, but not alone. He could wait for Steve. He _would_ wait for Steve. One day they would be able to be together without hiding it from the world, and he looked forward to that. That was always the plan, and he would be patient. He would wait forever for Steve, if need be.

And instead of dreading work the way he had been for months now, he looked forward to seeing what he and Gibbs could find out about Ziva. What Mossad’s plan was. It didn’t matter if they were playing a long game, because Tony’s entire life was made up of the long game. He’d been faithful to Steve even when they were teenagers, back when they were still children. He’d loved his _ohana_ and done what he could to protect them, even when he had been a child. He’d hidden himself away from his father, never allowing the man to know him, protecting himself from the man. Thanks to the McGarretts, he knew what family was. He wasn’t isolated and alone, like Father had wanted him to be. And now, he’d found another family here at NCIS. He would do everything he could to protect them, too. He wasn’t just going to roll over and die just because Mossad wanted him out of the picture. He would bide his time, and with Gibbs now backing him up, they would figure it out. It might take time, but Tony was a patient man. He could wait and let things unfold.

And if all else failed, then he could call Steve and he had no doubt that the air strike Steve threatened would be mighty and there would be no survivors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. I know. Nothing actually happened to Ziva. But Gibbs and Tony (and Steve) are on the case now. They can't just kick her out. Better to have the enemy you know and can keep an eye out on, than an enemy you can't even detect. Right? ;) And plus I think planning out a longer term story involving Ziva and what Mossad might be up to was something I wasn't quite up to, so I went for the open but somewhat resolved ending for Tony. Hopefully it's not too disappointing.
> 
> Anyway, I really, really hope that jesco, you enjoyed your story! Happy belated birthday again, and thank you for everything! I had a lot of fun stretching myself more, and playing with a totally new pairing to write, and I hope that I fulfilled your prompts satisfactorily. You've always given me amazing feedback, and have made my stories better, helped make me a better writer, and so I do thank you for that! <3 <3
> 
> Huge thanks to [Red_Pink_Dots](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Pink_Dots/pseuds/Red_Pink_Dots) for her fantastic artwork! Go click on this [link to her art post](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13509009) and give her some love!! :D Merci beaucoup, ma chere amie!
> 
> The songs for this story were:  
> * [History Will Teach Us Nothing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WNt5iK8EuAU) (Sting)  
> * [I'll Stand By You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=maAyfcO-X3k) (The Pretenders)  
> * [Havana](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bsSK1DccV_Y) (Camila Cabello)
> 
> And as always, thank you all so much for the comments and kudos and bookmarks. You guys are the best! :D I'll reply to the previous chapter's comments in the morning.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> <3  
> -j  
> xoxo

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for Victory is Long](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13509009) by [Red_Pink_Dots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Pink_Dots/pseuds/Red_Pink_Dots)




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